“We are all cranks now….” argues a new article on Gawker (relaunched last July). That is, we’re all just like yester-year’s “obsessive writers of letters to the editor, the meticulous hoarders of correspondence, the avid collectors of fine and rare grudges….”

“I have not, since my father brought home a Compaq Presario in 1995 and plugged it into our phone line, encountered one pocket of space in all of the World Wide Web that does not, to some degree or another, crankify all who inhabit it….”

[N]owadays, saying something deeply unwell about an article you don’t like to thousands of people is as trivial as ordering a coffee. And if the internet in general has lowered these barriers, social media has gone a step further. People who never set out to be cranks in the first place are actively incentivized to do so. This isn’t just because whenever you post you get a thrilling little tally of all the people who agree with you, it’s because of how these platforms are designed to maximize engagement. The ideal poster for social media companies is one who posts often, who posts stridently, and who responds to as much stuff as possible.

So, to be on Twitter or Facebook is to sit in a room while someone holds up random pieces of stimulus and demands your appraisal of each. What do we reckon of this? Okay, how about this? And this? What’s your view here? Were you to design a machine to turn otherwise normal, healthy people into cranks — a kind of crankification engine, if you like — you would probably arrive at something like these platforms.

Of course, Twitter and Facebook don’t crankify their users out of malice, they do it to turn a profit, which may actually be worse. When the cranks of yore would write a tirade spanning several faxes to their local member of parliament about a hedge that was bothering them, they did this for no-one but themselves. This is not the case for the Neo-crank. When we use our finite capacity for wonder to publicly opine about fictional teens using drugs on a television show, or people reading in bars, or one American girl leaving her fake-sounding college to attend a different fake-sounding college, a company is making bank off it. To put it another way, the Silicon Valley robber-barons are getting rich off the uncompensated labor of yeoman cranks, who till the posting fields in the sweltering heat of the discourse until their brains give out…. [T]his kind of relentless churn of opinion, this unceasing urge to prosecute our case on things we hadn’t even heard about an hour before, this gamification of being right — which is all the life of a crank really boils down to — is a deeply unhealthy way of interacting with the world around us.

For one thing, it robs us of our genuine curiosity. The paradox of the crank is that while they hold opinions on everything, they aren’t particularly curious about anything.

Read more of this story at Slashdot.

Source: Slashdot – Gawker Argues Because of the Internet, ‘We Are All Cranks Now’