In Part 1, we discussed the broad debate around the nature of Bluesky as it relates to openness, independence, and safety. But here's the thing: only dorks like me (and I guess you, if you read it) care about those aspects of social media. We may think, or wish, users cared more, but that isn't the state of play. Those Big Ideas are not the primary concern for social media users. They just want an enjoyable, informative experience surrounded by people they like.
Before we go further, it's worth addressing the why of it all. Does it really matter who uses what app? Does it matter which one "wins" or "loses?" Is all the sturm und drang necessary over apps that let you send tiny messages to mostly strangers?
Well, yeah. Because that's not all these apps are now. Consider the outsized influence Twitter has had on the last—oh my god—decade of public life. Consider how its death spiral influenced the last US presidential election. Choice of platform determines who dominates the public conversation. It may be ridiculous (hint: it is absolutely ridiculous), but these apps now govern our access to the ideas of others.
That is power. Elon knew it, even if all he wanted to do with that power was make everyone like him—an impossible task, as it turns out.
But most users are not trying to change society through social media, or even give a thought to the difference between an open and closed ecosystem. And you know what?
That's just fine. People can live their lives and make software choices based on their needs and preferences. They can even make choices different from yours without being morally reprehensible.
Still...suppose you did want to change minds about what platform is conducive to a healthy society. You need to meet users where they are. You need to address the experience.
The Personal Touch
Wherever you are on the internet, the place (and they are places, for all intents and purposes) in which you find yourself will make you feel something. That feeling, above all, is what drives engagement, and through engagement, the dissemination of ideas—and the potential to change minds.
This next section is going to be an intensely personal exploration. I cannot risk generalizing my experience as everyone's reality. But perhaps some or many of you will find resonance in these experiences.
When I use Mastodon, I feel something much different than when I use Bluesky. And both feel drastically different than using Twitter. That's kind of amazing, given that in each case, I'm entering text in a box, clicking buttons, and reading other people's text. As always, the human capacity to weave meaning out of the ether renders each of these as distinct experiences. For some, they also have distinct moral valences. And we can't stop talking about it.
What the hell is going on here?
My hope is that by exploring the experience of using each platform, we can discover what is good, not so good, different, and improvable in each platform, and uncover just why they make people feel a certain way. And then, we'll talk a little about how to move forward positively.
We'll start where my particular social media journey really began. While Facebook was the first social media I really used, it was simply because it was the only one available, and it was released during my freshman year of college.
Twitter was a thing I mindfully chose to engage on—first as a technology educator, then as a cybersecurity professional. Indeed, it was Twitter that brought me into the infosec world. The people I met and interacted with on the birdsite materially changed my life. But there was always something...competitive about it.
I was chasing something. Likes, retweets, sure, but also just inclusion. There was a conversation I saw happening and I wanted in. I wanted to get the jokes, to make the jokes, to find some level of belonging that had eluded me in every other part of my life.
I've never been a joiner. I've never been particularly well understood. But I think most everyone wants some form of acceptance and understanding. For sure, we all want to be seen.
Toward the end there, that is how Twitter began to feel. And I won't lie: it was intoxicating. Unhealthy, like any intoxicant.
But that was the experience of Twitter: echelons. The in-group and out-group. The blue-check-havers and not. The ones who could say anything and broadcast it to thousands, and those who struggled to be heard above the din. And the constant yearning of one group to become the other.
It really was Meowmeowbeenz.
Then the Nazi bought it and I moved on. At the time, Bluesky was invite-only and alas, I was not among the elect. But Mastodon was open source. It was decentralized. It had servers dedicated to my interests. It made sense to me. So over I went.
Mastodon and the Fediverse
Note: I'm using "Mastodon" as shorthand for the Fediverse because it is the overwhelming majority of ActivityPub usage. Please don't @ me about this.
Arriving on Mastodon was like coming home to the internet of my childhood: a little wonky, a lot less polished, but more authentic, in a way. The serendipity of discovery was still possible—albeit much more difficult, given the fragmentation of the network.
Starting was not difficult, but then I had no difficulty with the concept of multiple servers. I can absolutely see how that initial choice is paralyzing and confusing for non-technical users. And it's a problem the community simply refuses to acknowledge as a problem.
I didn't love everything I discovered. For instance, the constant scolding about right and wrong ways to use the platform, the well-documented as the "HOA" vibe of Mastodon. Even well-intentioned rulemongers get tiresome after a while.
I also noticed pretty quickly that a lot of folks I was seeing and interacting with were a lot like me. Also many trans folks and furries, which rules, but kind of a lot of white dudes. That does come with the territory in open source. And it was very quickly apparent that Mastodon had a problem attracting and keeping Black folks. From that amazing Dr. Johnathan Flowers interview:
Mastodon is a very white space. It draws upon some of the values and some of the interests of indie web producers, of the DIY tech community, wherein there's this sense of rugged individualism. The open source nature means that you can make your own stuff, and this motivates some of the kinds of responses that Mastodonians will make to users who say that there are certain features that aren't available, that there are certain content guidelines and moderation policies that tend to act as social norms on Mastodon itself. The argument would be, make your own instance.
The double-edged sword of open source is quite sharp here. "Don't like how we do it? You can go run your own instance." That response makes absolutely nobody feel safe from abuse or harassment.
You know, I probably run more servers and virtual machines than most people. Hell, I wrote a book about doing it. But I have zero interest in running my own Mastodon server. The moderation overhead alone sounds like a nightmare, to say nothing of the administrivia that comes with complex applications like Masto.
I experienced these ills by proxy much more than directly, but I felt it important to acknowledge them.
On the other hand, there's a lot of good to experience on Mastodon.
When I use Mastodon, like I'm contributing to a tight-knit community. It's open source; it's decentralized; it's ungovernable. It feels, in a word, righteous in its aims.
And of course, it's counter-cultural. It's cyberpunk. I'm in the Undercity with the netfreaks and deckers, fighting against the corpos.
But, like, I'm also just on my phone (really, my ThinkPad) just like you. Actually, probably worse. I'm a straight white guy with a wife, a kid, and an IT job. I'm about as punk as a ham sandwich. And I recognize that even entertaining those silly fantasies is a privilege.
Another interesting phenomenon: Mastodon is where I get the most thoughtful conversation on social media. I don't know if that's a sampling effect, or whether the higher character limit has something to do with it. Regardless of cause, it's absolutely the case that I reliably will find more thoughtful responses on Masto than on other social media.
It's also the case that I'll get told I'm wrong in a lot more detail than other places! That sucks, but mostly for my ego. Turns out the more you post online, the more you're likely to be wrong—especially when you step outside your lane. I don't necessarily know if getting humbled is a bug in the system. Folks aren't always nice about it. That's what the block button is for.
Except...the block isn't all it's cracked up to be in the Fediverse. There are lots of edge cases where you'll see blocked accounts, or they'll see you. It's a bit messy, just like the rest of Fedi. And once again, there is little guarantee of safety. All moderation is left to volunteers, which is neither fair nor reliable.
And then there's Bluesky.
Bluesky
Let's acknowledge that both in origin and experience, there is no Bluesky without Twitter. Bluesky did not fall out of a coconut tree (too soon?). But what is the Bluesky experience?
I think it's fair to say that Bluesky is still figuring itself out. Technically, the app still has miles to go—as does ATProto, on which all of Bluesky has pinned all its grander aspirations. The cynics on Mastodon have already deemed it beyond saving: a right-wing crypto conspiracy that's just another business out to make you the product. Maybe that's so, but I think it's a little too easy to judge something finally rather than wait for more information before drawing conclusions.
I do know this: Bluesky is fun. Weirdly, not just because of the interactions with people. Part of the fun of Bluesky for me is discovering how the technology works. Starter Packs, Feeds, labelers, and alternative view of the ATproto "firehose" have been really exciting to see. There's an infectious spark of creativity here, the clear sign of a honeymoon period full of only possibility. That feeling can't last, but what replaces it doesn't have to be the same old slog.
Posting on Bluesky is...fine. It works as intended. I do miss my Markdown-formatted rich text from Mastodon—give me blockquotes, italics, code blocks, and embedded links! But as a text publishing service, I have no complaints. The interactions have been civil and enjoyable. I'm not yet discovering new things the way I do on Masto. I'm hoping the biggest nerds from all corners find their way here to past about whatever crazy thing they're building.
Bluesky does feel safe. The moderation tools, such as they are, work. And it appears as though the (paid, professional) Trust and Safety team has improved significantly from early days. Coming from Mastodon, the very presence of such a team is refreshing.
As a professional tool, I think it's getting there as well. A critical mass of cybersecurity folks seems to be showing up there—the ones that haven't either decided to go down with X or have become Mastodon diehards.
I am also noticing a bit too much focus on numbers again. My Mastodon client, Phanpy, hides likes/boosts on the timeline, which is rather freeing. I would enjoy a no-stats mode on Bluesky, where there was only an indication whether you had liked/reposted something.
But hey: custom clients already exist.
So what is the Bluesky experience? It's the same as Twitter ever was, but a little better? And with some exciting promises. Maybe that's what it is. There's excitement here in a way that Mastodon could not capture. Was it the gatekeeping attitudes? The difficult user experience? The difficulty of building new things with ActivityPub? I'm not sure, but as much as I respected ActivityPub and the Fediverse, I always bounced off the idea of making something for the ecosystem. On the other hand, I have two or three ATProto project ideas kicking around right now. Capturing both user and developer excitement is the dream.
Don't get me wrong: I have significant concerns about the current centralized state, and the scaling problems mentioned by others. Whether Jay Graber and her team can deliver on their promises remains to be seen. Some distrust anything a company says. I am not one of them, but I also know that capital eats us all.
Threads
I'm not spending time on Threads because it's garbage. Straight garbage. I gave it an honest chance, cross-posting there for a year and checking in. Nothing of consequence happened there, and Meta showed its true colors. The experience of Threads was just banality and censorship.
Growth and Choice
A common discussion I'd get trapped in on Mastodon was about growth. It always went something like:
"If Mastodon wants to grow—"
"Why does it have to?"
"Don't you want more people to use it? Don't you believe in it?"
"The right people will. Everyone else can do whatever. We don't need to be big; we just need to exist."
I get the sentiment about not requiring domination, but the "right people" idea is some elitist bullshit. Also, and this is my primary issue with the position, a social network is only as effective as the people you can reach through it. The best estimate of Fediverse users right now is just shy of 11 million. So that's half of Bluesky, with a lot more lead time. Monthly active users is around a million. That's not much reach. The value proposition for anyone interested in getting their message out there is poor for Mastodon. And so, the value proposition for anyone interesting in receiving messages is also pretty poor.
This attitude is not just anti-growth; it's anti-improvement. Any suggestion that could make Mastodon better has a vocal subset of people asking why they need to change to meet the expectations of newcomers. That's one reason why, even now, there are no quote-posts on Mastodon. Ask Black Twitter how that went over.
That's a shame, because I think the true decentralization of Mastodon is important. But network effects matter. For me, a social network must connect me to the people and information I care about. If those people and information sources do not find it worth their time to use a platform, how can I? I'll tolerate a wonky user experience for the social experience I want. If neither feels particularly good, why would I stick around?
You Say You Want a Revolution
Let's suppose once more you advocate for a fully decentralized, fully open social network. Is that what you believe in? Are those the ideals you're striving for? Or is it a particular tribe you've joined, and membership is the motivating factor above other principles? Because ultimately, who cares whether ATProto, ActivityPub, or some other thing wins out? The idea of a network immune to central control is the common goal, is it not? You seek a revolution in social connection, self-determining and free from corporate influence, right?
The Fediverse harbors a great deal of suspicion for any corporation, and Bluesky is no exception. Many expect that venture capital is irredeemable, and that the only way to remain solvent is to "enshittify" the platform, rent-seeking one way or another. They believe the Fediverse model is the way forward, and if only everyone could see what they see...
They ignore that the lived experience in the Fediverse is unpleasant for many, and offer no solutions for the enumerated Fediverse ills. If all you have are criticisms and your own offering is unpleasant, what exactly are you selling? Misery may love company, but nobody joins in willingly.
Paulo Freire tells us no revolution can be visited upon the oppressed by a would-be revolutionary leader.
Revolutionary leaders do not go to the people in order to bring them a message of "salvation," but in order to come to know through dialogue with them both their objective situation and their awareness of that situation—the various levels of perception of themselves and of the world in which and with which they exist. One cannot expect positive results from an educational or political action program which fails to respect the particular view of the world held by the people. Such a program constitutes cultural invasion, good intentions notwithstanding.
You can't lead a revolution the people don't want. Now, Freire also speaks about liberating the oppressed from the oppressor's value system, but that too is a dialogue. You have to meet people where they are. And if they're not on your favorite platform, what kind of a revolution do you expect to inspire?
For those of you interested in fighting for a freer digital future, I leave you with this: ideological or moral purity is for ascetics. Slavish devotion to any belief is a retreat from the world, not a salvation of it. Change requires discomfort, and discomfort takes many shapes: openness to new ideas, compromise, changing one's mind. The only way forward is together. That begins with an outstretched hand.