I don’t think I wrote about it here, but last year I went to the Hopscotch Music Festival in downtown Raleigh, NC (my first time in that city, and in the South at all, actually). I hadn’t really heard of Hopscotch before I learned John Darnielle of the Mountain Goats would be playing a solo set, including a batch of one-time-only, acoustic, no-recordings-please, you’re-here-or-you’re-not piano covers of heavy metal songs. As one might imagine, that spiked my interest meter, so I did some more looking, and discovered a massive, three-day festival with an immensely diverse lineup — and several acts aside from Darnielle that I wanted to see live, including a late-night Wye Oak set and The Roots headlining. My college friend Aggie lives, works, and takes photos at rock shows down in the Triangle, so with the promise of seeing her again for the first time in years, and having her expert guidance around the local bands playing the free day parties, my decision was made.
(The promise of Darnielle’s set and the range of great other stuff also convinced my friend Melanie (@grammar_girl) to come down — but she was hit by a car and broke her hip in August, and although she’s now recovered just fine, she was in no shape to hike all over downtown Raleigh in September.)
I went down thinking it would be a one-time fun fling for me (after all, I’m not so young anymore), to see an unusually great lineup of bands I love and reconnect with an old friend. But, as anyone who knows me in person and/or follows me on twitter will probably recall re: my absolute inability to shut up about it already, I was basically camping their website for the ticket announcement from the day I got home. I got in on the early-bird sale for Hopscotch 2013, booked my flight and hotel shortly after, and convinced my friend Joel (who I’d talked into some concerts here in Boston, with reasonable success) to come along this year — and be extra careful when crossing the street until we’d gotten back.
This year was to feature Big Boi as a headliner, but he canceled a few weeks ago, and was replaced by Holy Ghost! and A-Trak on Friday night; Saturday, Spiritualized headlined. I actually skipped both headline slots this year (though I did see a couple of the City Plaza shows — Gross Ghost in the first spot on Friday, and Lollipops and the Breeders on Saturday).
Hopscotch is a great festival, both for seeing acts you already love, and for wandering around to see what sounds interesting, and discovering bands you’d never heard of; not to mention the amazing restaurants (chicken and waffles at Beasley’s is a must, Raleigh Times and the Busy Bee are great as well, and the Mecca is the Platonic ideal of a greasy spoon) and regional craft beers.
This year was every bit as great as 2012 was, and I can’t wait to see what next year brings (still crossing my fingers for Dessa, POS, or others — or better yet, all! — of the powerhouse Minneapolis hip hop collective Doomtree; Neko Case and Kelly Hogan; or Kendrick Lamar and Okkervil River, who played Boston Calling this past weekend instead. Just in case anyone from the Hopscotch organization is reading this!).
Shows I saw this year (probably leaving out some acts from the day parties, though):
- Joel was a finalist in the drawing to win a bike from New Belgium brewery, which got him a pair of tickets to the VIP party on Thursday, where we mingled some, had free food and drinks, and were asked to draw on the wall with staff-provided pencils. (He didn’t win the bike.)
- Nathan Bowles, playing solo banjo in Fletcher Opera Theater, which has amazing acoustics. I loved his music (and he looked really familiar, I swear he played with another band I saw last year), though he ran long.
- Midnight Plus One at the Lincoln Theatre, delivering noisy, energetic rock (an excellent counterpoint to the previous show).
- Eros and the Eschaton filled perpetually crowded, sweaty dive Slim’s with fuzz and floating vocals.
- Expo ’70 built soundscapes up in the Hive, above the Busy Bee.
- I saw a little of The Rosebuds‘ performance of Sade’s Love Deluxe in the quite large Memorial Auditorium
- And finally, I stopped in to see Wold (the main Hopscotch band page for them just says “Bio coming soon”; the genre guide for metal has a better description), in the black-box Kennedy Theater. Wold was certainly interesting, but drew a very small crowd, and their having performed only four times previously in their 10+ year career showed. When first the vocalist, and then the drummer — that is, the entirety of the band — unceremoniously walked off stage with the looped ambient noise still going around half past midnight, I didn’t stick around to see if they were coming back. On the plus side, I’m now on a very short list of people who can say they’ve seen Wold live. Perhaps there’s an online support group where we can all commiserate.
- Spent most of the day at the Bitchfork day party, which centered queer women, and included Creedence Queerwater Revival (an all-female CCR cover band), Shirlette Ammons — who’d opened on the main stage before the Roots last year — and Sookee, and took place at a yoga/gymnastics studio, with aerial gymnastics performances during the music.
- Tried to get into the Merge Records listening party, but the venue was at capacity and had a long line.
- Word got around that Action Bronson had hurt his back and missed his flight, and as a last-minute replacement to fill his 11:30 slot at the Lincoln, they’d called in…Big Daddy Kane. Good lord. That was not a thing I had expected to hear!
- Gross Ghost opening on the city plaza gave a great show.
- Went back to Fletcher to see Lady Lamb the Beekeeper — but another last-minute cancellation, this time next act Night Beds, with no one to fill the slot, pushed her set out to 10:30pm. Instead, I stopped in to see Turf War at the Lincoln for a little while, then went to Tir Na Nog for some of Shirlette’s nighttime set.
- At 10:30, back to Fletcher for Lady Lamb (for real this time), which was a phenomenal show. Spaltro performed her first song completely in the dark, all house and stage lights off; then the lights came up to show her, alone with her guitar, on the expanse of stage. The one sour note came not from her, but from a moment when, as she re-tuned between songs, she offered to answer questions from the audience, and one dude yelled “what do you look like naked?” At least (take notes, PAX!) the rest of the audience didn’t cheer or play along with that bullshit.
- After that I went over to the Lincoln again, because passing up a chance to see Big Daddy Kane when the opportunity presents itself is not something I am prepared to do. I stayed for 30-40 minutes of that…
- …and returned to Fletcher to catch most of one of the shows I was most excited for out of the whole festival: Mount Moriah performing their entire catalog (one EP and two LPs, the latter of which, this year’s Miracle Temple, is among the best releases of a year full of great new records). I was able to snag an open front-row seat for most of their self-titled album and all of Miracle Temple, and it was as incredible an experience as I could’ve asked for. I had considered trying to catch the end of Earl Sweatshirt‘s set afterward, but Mount Moriah ran a bit long, so I called it a night.
- The Afternoon Delight street party at Raleigh Times; the Food Truck Round-up at the Lincoln; Tir Na Nog, Slim’s, the Saturday Shredstorm at the Hive, and Trekky Records’ Day-Dream at the Pour House — and that was just the day parties. Tried to get in to Kings Barcade to see Flesh Wounds play Nirvana’s Incesticide, but there was a long, slow-moving line.
- Then openers The Lollipops at the city plaza, followed by…
- …The Breeders, playing all of Last Splash. There was a guy a little ahead of me in the audience wearing a Sleater-Kinney shirt. The whole set was amazing.
- Skipped out on the plaza after the Breeders, and checked out Saints Apollo at Tir Na Nog, but was unmoved by their Nice-Guy lyrics.
- Over at the Lincoln again, however, I was very impressed by Solar Halos. Their Demos EP (on their bandcamp site) is, along with Lady Lamb’s Ripley Pine and Shirlette’s Twilight for Gladys Bentley, one of the records I’m definitely going to buy based on their Hopscotch show.
- I got to Kings a little early for Fat Tony, so I caught the tail end of Cesar Comanche‘s set, which was also pretty good. Fat Tony’s set was great, despite losing one of my fancy etymotics earplugs (and what good is just one earplug? no good, is what).
- A quick run back to the hotel for a backup pair of less-fancy, plain-old-foam earplugs later, I returned to Fletcher for Minnesota slowcore legends Low, a show a Carleton alum could hardly afford to pass up.
- I could only stay for a few songs, though, because two more can’t-miss shows were coming up in rapid succession. First, next door at Memorial, John Cale, a man whose musical breadth and impact are such that “legend” doesn’t suffice. In that big auditorium, his sound was incredible, and I almost would’ve stuck out the rest of the night there if it weren’t for the final show of the night.
- That final show was genre-defining stoner-metal band Sleep, another long-standing, but rarely-performing act. Unlike Wold (who among other things were, I think, not well-served by the Kennedy’s odd space, and might’ve done better at Slim’s). Sleep had the Lincoln packed with metalheads and weed smoke, headbanging in slow motion to their churning riffs, a near-perfect conclusion to the weekend.
- On Sunday the festival’s officially over, but there’s always a few parties left. This year I hung out a little at Slim’s annual Hopscotch Hangover as well as the Pour House’s post-Hopscotch party, after brunch at Joule (who now serve the brunch Poole’s used to). And then it was time to catch the cab to the airport, and head home to Boston, ready to sleep for as long as I possibly could.
I guess I don’t need to elaborate here on how I feel these days about Penny Arcade and their bicoastal, twice-yearly paean to conspicuous consumption, PAX Prime/PAX East. They represent some of the worst of gamer culture, they gleefully profit from misogyny and rape jokes, and their convention (increasingly, it seems) disregards its own “no booth babes” rule, making women feel less welcome and encouraging (presumed male) attendees to see all women, booth babe, cosplayer, developer, PR, or “regular” attendee, as sexualized objects there for men’s pleasure.
It’s distressing, then, but hardly surprising to hear that, at a party thrown by Mojang’s Markus “Notch” Persson, noted fedora enthusiast, indie-game-scene darling, and creator of the wildly successful Minecraft, a female game blogger seeking some relative solitude in a corner was accosted, harassed, and sexually assaulted by a male party-goer. Understandably upset, she fled the party, and when her friends sought out security, they were greeted with shrugs.
Some salient points:
- The party was paid for by Persson himself, not by Mojang. It’s not entirely clear to what extent he organized it, and to what extent the party venue handled those details.
- The party took place during PAX Prime, but was not an official PAX event, nor was it at the PAX venue. However, as it was a party thrown during PAX by a video game celebrity; it’s reasonable to assume that the majority of attendees were PAX-goers.
- A notable exception: some attendees, distinguished (according to Ky, the blogger who was assaulted) by red wristbands, were women hired from a modeling agency.
- Lydia Winters, Minecraft’s “Director of Fun” commented on Ky’s blog post clarifying that Persson, not Mojang, had thrown the party and that the models were hired by “the production company” to “have more girls there to up the girl to guy ratio. It’s a pretty typical club procedure.” (Winters confirmed via twitter that it was in fact her who posted that comment.)
- It’s not clear, then whether hiring the models was in fact Persson’s idea, or whether he knew about/approved it. (One would imagine that, if planning were left to the venue or some other third party, given that Persson was paying, he’d at least have been asked to sign off on the expenses.)
- Persson himself, about three hours ago, tweeted:
RT @notch: Some asshole did something totally unacceptable at my party, and a security guard shrugged it off. Very upset. It's being dug ...—
Corvus Elrod (@CorvusE) September 05, 2012
- In an update at the top of her post, Ky emphasizes that she doesn’t feel PAX or Mojang is responsible in any way for what happened, and that in her view “The ONLY person who should be held accountable for what happened is the asshole himself.” She also states, “Also this post isn’t about nerd or gamer culture or blaming those cultures at all, this could happen in any community, at any party, to anyone.”
There are a few points I want to make about this.
[Author's note: I added a few sentences and split the next paragraph into two, because I wasn't entirely comfortable with its original tone.]
Perhaps predictably, I disagree with Ky that this has nothing to do with PAX or with nerd/gamer culture. She is obviously the final authority on her own experience, and just as obviously the man who attacked her is the only one who bears direct (let alone legal) responsibility for that crime. But from my perspective, one shouldn’t be too quick to discount cultural and environmental factors that make predators feel they’re free to operate in a given situation — and that make bystanders more likely to shrug, to see the warning signs of predatory behavior as “normal”.
It’s certainly true that things like this can and do happen “in any community, at any party, to anyone” — rape culture is endemic, and no subcultural niche is entirely free of it. However, gamer culture — fueled by Nice Guy (often shading into MRA) bitterness over high-school bullying and lack of “success” with girls (an historical injustice elevated to mythic proportions in nerdism) — clings to especially overt misogyny and objectification. One need only look at the vitriolic response to Anita Sarkeesian‘s proposed (now underway) “Tropes vs. Women in Video Games” video series, the myriad examples at Fat, Ugly, or Slutty?, or of course the Dickwolves debacle, to see this in action.
PAX encourages and revels in these attitudes — reflecting the views (so far as one can surmise from their actions) of its founders and their core fanbase — but it certainly doesn’t start with PAX, or with Penny Arcade. Society’s misogyny has always been an element of nerd culture, and nerd culture’s tendency to be self-referential, insular, and distrustful of “outsiders”, makes it self-reinforcing. Critics, whether from without or within the subculture, are almost invariably dismissed out-of-hand as “not understanding”, not being “real gamers”. And people growing up in gamer culture — especially young men — have spent a decade, or two, or three, absorbing these attitudes with very little real challenge to them.
So inasmuch as gamer culture is tainted by rape culture, and PAX is one of the purer expressions of contemporary gamer culture, yes, this is about PAX. This is about the kinds of people who felt welcome at PAX, and what they thought they could get away with. It’s about the constant presence of “booth babes” at gaming conventions, and the still abysmal representation of women in mainstream games. It’s about the kind of people who think it’s reasonable to “up the girl to guy ratio” by hiring models to attend a party, because they think their (presumed male, presumed heterosexual) attendees neither possess nor need to be encouraged to develop any social skills, and thus are and will remain repulsive to women not paid to tolerate them. (There are, of course, far too many problems with this to unpack in a single blog post.) And it’s about what all this, taken together, in constant dosage over many years, teaches people who didn’t even notice they were being instructed: women are decorative objects, there for men’s enjoyment; they have no significant interests of their own; they are not skilled; they are not peers; if they are not attractive to men they are failures; they are merely things for men to desire and despise. (If you think I’m overstating, now would be a good time to go look again at those links a couple paragraphs up.)
Now, almost everyone — even in the comments section of her blog post, a rarity here on the interwebs — has reacted to Ky’s story with horror and disgust. But almost everyone (including Ky herself) has directed that horror and disgust solely at the individual assailant. It’s easy in this case, because “grabbing a stranger’s hand and putting it on your penis” is behavior (in point of fact, a crime) even most MRAs will recognize as beyond the pale. Oh, that one guy did something really unacceptable! He’s terrible, nothing more to see here. But given what we know about sexual harassment and assault, it’s highly likely that he harassed more than one person that night, and furthermore that he wasn’t the only one who did. How many of the models paid to be there put up with harassment and perhaps assault? How many women party-goers were harassed by sexist nerds who thought harassing the models was “part of their job” (nope!) and extrapolated from there that it was an acceptable way to behave toward any women at that party (again, nope!)? Rape culture teaches men that they’re entitled to sexual gratification from women, whether visual, verbal, or physical; hiring models to “mingle” with partygoers declares the same thing explicitly.
Ky’s assailant is the only case from that party, that we know of, where someone decided he was entitled not only to sexual gratification but to enforce his claim to that gratification with violence — and make no mistake, all sexual assault is violence — and that makes him a relatively egregious example. But that doesn’t make him an isolated, unconnected, free-floating Bad Person whose worldview, impulses, and actions come from nowhere and cannot be interrogated. His attitudes came from somewhere, and for every person like him who physically sexually assaults someone, there are dozens or hundreds who hold basically the same views, absorbed from basically the same sources, who “only” harass and intimidate and make gamer culture hostile to everyone who isn’t heterosexual, cisgender, white, able-bodied, and male.
Finally, here’s the kicker. If past incidents in gamer culture are any indicator (Dickwolves, Fat Princess, Duke Nukem Forever, Resident Evil 5, the Borderlands 2 “Girlfriend Mode” controversy, and countless others) there will be no lasting consequences. A few more people will be alienated from gamer culture, but the majority of gamers will brush it off, and continue to support the institutions that promote these attitudes. The gaming press — even the smart, progressive gaming press — will write about Penny Arcade and PAX and Gearbox and Mojang to talk about their press releases and upcoming games, and will not mention the kinds of things that happen under their various auspices. No lasting opprobrium will attach to any of their names, and the culture will not change. People, even smart, thoughtful, progressive people who understand rape culture and how it works, and work tirelessly to break down race, gender, and sexuality barriers in gamer culture, will keep attending PAX and buying games produced by developers with toxic, misogynist studio cultures. The overwhelming sense will be that yeah, that stuff was bad, but that’s all in the past. Like the security guard in Ky’s story: “Okay? What do you expect me to do?”
That seems like a harsh way to close, but I don’t know what else to say. A lot of people have been patient and polite about this for a great many years, and the results have been rather underwhelming. Nerd culture resists change, and perceives efforts to bring change as attacks, no matter how moderate, no matter how careful the phrasing. I think the best hope is to work to make explicit what it is the pillars of the subculture support: to label their behavior indelibly as sexism, and to finally attach some modicum of shame to behaviors that should always have been seen as shameful. Challenge harmful structures, don’t support them. Don’t let praise for misogynist companies and institutions go unquestioned. make all but the most committedly sexist nerds uncomfortable voicing their boy’s-club attitudes, and make it socially unacceptable for the majority to associate with the hardcore misogynists.
A couple of weeks ago, I went to see Hanne Blank at an event for her new book, Straight: The Surprisingly Short History of Heterosexuality at the Harvard Bookstore. I enjoyed the talk — the gist of which is that our (where “our” roughly means Western European and Anglo-/Euro-American, and other cultures to the extent “we” have successfully exported our ideas) idea of sexual orientation as a more-or-less fixed component of identity — indeed, as an intelligible thing at all — is an historically contingent construction dating only to the mid-19th century. The history of that idea, the political tactics and strategies, it was formulated to serve, and the originally unanticipated constructions which have been put on it and uses to which it’s been put, can be traced, examined in context, and demystified. It’s a powerful thing, to see a prevailing way of understanding the world, and be able to say, “this is not decreed from on high; this is not unalterable natural fact; this is a human construction that arose for intelligible reasons.”
This discussion of historical constructedness put me in mind of a couple of my favorite short quotations, which you’ll see in the sidebar to the right. Edward Said, from the introduction to the 25th Anniversary edition of Orientalism: “[N]either the term Orient nor the concept of the West has any ontological stability; each is made up of human effort, partly affirmation, partly identification of the Other.” And Kai Chang, from his sadly vanished-into-the-ether blog (he maintains a presence on Tumblr, but I’ve never been able to figure out Tumblr) — the Wayback Machine does have an archived copy of the post, at least — “Because the world is not a floating sequence of unfortunate events; it’s an edifice with foundations, load-bearing walls, plumbing, wiring, ductwork; and in order to renovate, you need to study those structures.”
Between them, those beautifully expressed thoughts point the way to a great deal of the foundation ofmy way of understanding the world (itself, of course, alsoconstructed and historically contingent). No social convention, no matter how “natural” we’re accustomed to thinking it is — indeed, “nature” vs. “civilization” is yet another constructed dichotomy which obscures and mystifies humans’ relationship with their environment — is actually somehow encoded, immutably, in our DNA.
Almost a decade ago now, Joel Spolsky described his Law of Leaky Abstractions. The law is, “all non-trivial abstractions, to some degree, are leaky.” And what Spolsky means by “leaky” is that whenever you deal with an abstraction (he’s discussing software, but it applies much more broadly than that), details of the underlying system (“reality” if you like, or just a lower-level abstraction) inevitably operate in such a way as to prevent the abstraction from being perfect: some of the messy underlying workings leak through. In programming, we talk, and mostly think and act, as though we dealt in pure, logical concepts, free-floating in the air for us to manipulate as we please: but in fact what we ultimately deal in is electrical impulses traveling between transistors on nanometer-scale wires, and that physical reality constrains and warps the gloriously pure logic of our airy thoughts.
We still have to deal in abstractions: even the relatively low-level abstraction of logical 1 and 0 bits moving between ALUs and registers in neat groups of 64 is too much information for a human brain to hold and track all at once, never mind the electrochemical reactions playing out by the billions every second — or being able to also recognize any kind of higher-level meaning. All thought is abstraction; all speech is abstraction; all social interaction is abstraction. We are complex physical systems understanding ourselves through abstractions. And that’s all right! We can’t do away with abstractions; such a thing is so far outside the realm of the possible that even to ask whether we “should” is incoherent. But we do need to be cognizant that they are abstractions and that they do leak: if we mistake abstractions — historically contingent, constructed systems, which serve necessary functions but are not necessarily the only systems that could serve those functions — for uncomplicated, “natural” fact, we are ill-prepared for what on Lacanian terms* would be understood as irruptions of the Real into the Symbolic.
To come back around to Hanne Blank’s book, then: the binary system of “heterosexual” and “homosexual”, and indeed the entire concept of “sexual orientation” as a relatively uncomplicated, fixed characteristic of a person’s identity, is a leaky abstraction (though no less so, of course, than the system of “acceptable” and “deviant” sexual behaviors which preceded it in Western European thought). It’s a nice, simple idea, easy to think about and apply, and in most cases it seems to fit pretty well. But if you start digging you find it doesn’t have any ontological stability. Not everyone is attracted exclusively to one gender. Not everyone is attracted to ANY gender. Not everyone experiences their sexuality as a fixed “orientation” over their lifetime. If you dig deeper, you find it’s built on another leaky abstraction: the idea of “sexual orientation” rests (among other things) on the idea that there are two genders, masculine and feminine; that every person is either one or the other; and that every person is attracted to either one or the other. But gender, too, is unstable, as not everyone identifies with the gender they’re assigned at birth, or indeed with either pole of the standard gender binary, and not everyone experiences their gender identity as stable over their lifetime. Psychology, sociology, even anatomy, are all susceptible to these leaks.
Every level you try to systematize and stabilize turns out to resist that process. The wild multifarious variety of human biology and brain chemistry and all the complex interactions of systems with systems — all the way down, at the very root, to the perpetual randomness of quantum foam — filters up through the abstractions as instability. When we take these neat abstractions and try to impose them on the messiness of lived experience, at best they only mostly fit. Some people can’t or won’t fit into the mold, and some get hurt trying to fit, or more often, by others trying to make them fit. And I think the best way to deal with this, probably, is — if you’ll pardon my repeating myself — to recognize the constructedness, and the leakiness, of the abstractions we use, and to understand them not only as contingent but as provisional. That they are constructed means they are not immutable. We absolutely require sets of abstracting conceptual tools to manage our experience of the world. But there is no reason to presume a priori that the specific sets of tools we have are the only ones that could ever possibly serve the purpose. A worldview is not handed down from on high. It is learned and built up, and it can be revised and replaced as events and information warrant.
Accepting instability lets you adjust and adapt. Moreover, trying to prevent or quash it is an effort doomed to failure.
* in fairness I must admit I know very little Lacan and can claim to understand even less.
Earlier this week, Google made some big changes to their Reader service. They radically altered its look and feel to bring it in line with the New Google Look which debuted on Google Plus; and they also removed entirely all of Reader’s native social features.
My favorite thing about Reader — and not just mine — was always the sharing, following, and commenting functionality. On each item in Reader, there were Star, Like, and Share buttons. Like worked approximately like Google+’s +1 or Facebook’s Like, but Share was a bit different. Sharing a post in Reader pushed it to a public RSS feed of all the items you’d shared. It also enabled comments on the item, when viewed within the Reader interface. Other Reader users could follow you, which meant that the RSS feed of your personal shares would appear along with all the other feeds they subscribed to, and they’d be able to comment on your shares as well.
Because it just pushed them out as RSS, though, you could also grab the URL for the feed of your shared items — as I did to populate the “Recent Google Reader Shared Items” sidebar box on this very blog. Apparently that RSS feed hasn’t been taken down from google.com yet, but Reader no longer allows me to add anything to it.
Instead, among the many mostly terrible design decisions involved in New Reader, Like has been replaced with a +1 button (a reasonable choice), and the Share button is gone.
Clicking the +1 button adds a public +1 to the item, and brings up a popup from which you can choose to also share the item to Google+, restricting it to a particular circle if you wish. If you want to share an item without letting the whole world know you’ve +1′ed it, you have to first select the item in the reading pane, then click the “Share…” button up in the top corner of the universal Google bar (as Shih notes, this is extremely nonintuitive, especially for people who are already Reader users. I think that’s on purpose: Google will let you share things without putting a +1 on them, but they don’t really want you to do that: much better to contribute to their “X people liked this” statistics database).
This means sharing items takes a bunch of clicks instead of just one, and to see others’ shares, and discuss them in comment threads, you now have to leave Reader and switch to G+ (and anyone who doesn’t have or — for example due to Google’s needlessly user-hostile “real name” policies, on which see JWZ — doesn’t want a G+ account is out of luck), where lots of screen space is taken up by stuff that isn’t the shared item or discussion of the shared item, and where there’s no way to see only Reader shared items: you see all the posts from the circle you’re currently viewing, status updates, photos, links, and all.
What Google has done is to kill off a feature that was well-tailored to its purpose and encouraged interoperability by use of internet standards, and replace it with one which is ill-suited to the habits Reader taught its users, and which operates within a more closed Google ecosystem instead of using a standard protocol. And they’ve done so with little warning (only a bit more than a week), and an apparently completely unthinking UI redesign in the name of a foolish consistency. Reader’s form and function used to complement each other, and are now at odds.
Why did they make these changes? The only plausible explanation I can see is that they want to drive more users to Google+, because it’s the identity brokerage at the center of their platform strategy. Google+ requires a public Google Profile; Reader, Docs, Picasa, and perhaps some of their other services (not Gmail yet, but it’s probably only a matter of time) require a Google Profile as well, though it need not be public. But if you use any of those services and join G+, you have to set your profile to public. And G+ requires you to use your “real name,” on penalty of profile suspension (which means losing access to not only G+ but also Reader, Docs, and Picasa). They’ve also rolled out the “+1″ button to Google search results, and as an embeddable web bug like Facebook’s “Like This”. In other words, pushing users to G+ lets them build a more or less comprehensive database of each user’s online behavior, tied to an identity they can reasonably authoritatively assert represents a single real person in the world. Across millions of users, that’s a huge wealth of minable data on browsing habits.
And that’s something of extraordinary value to advertisers. Google, I think, is making maneuvers toward competing with Facebook as the dominant identity broker and supplier of carefully targeted demographic data for ad placement. And, whether because they got spooked by Facebook and slipped up, or for some other reason, they’re doing so in a clumsy way, making bad changes for no obviously good reason, pissing off users, and tipping their hand.
That’s not something I’m eager to be any more a part of than I have to. I’m going to switch away from Reader to some other RSS aggregator. I’ve disagreed with G+’s “real name” policy from the start, and it’s clear that they have no intention of fixing that either; so I’m going to leave G+. Facebook, if anything, respects its users privacy even less than Google (indeed, it’s famous for that disrespect), and though it’s loosely enforced, also has a “real name” policy; so I’ll also be leaving Facebook. (As it happens, I barely use Facebook anymore anyway.) I’m looking for good replacements for Docs and Calendar, but if I can’t find any, I can survive a return to non-web-based solutions, no matter how much I’ll miss easy real-time collaborative editing.
For the time being I am retaining my Gmail account, due to the hassle of changing email addresses, but if they continue to push user-hostile policies, I’ll be looking to fully disentangle myself from the Google ecosystem.
I suppose I’ll leave the sidebar box up until Google kills the RSS feed for good.