It's Giving Early Twitter Vibes
But is it that actually what we are nostalgic for?
Threads is here. And once again, a brand new feed is all a-twitter with hope (see what I did there?). This hope revolves around a clear theme: "Is it possible this is like early days Twitter? Is it? Maybe? Please let it be so."
I saw the same sentiment expressed here on Substack when Notes launched. The cautious speculation that perhaps this was the reincarnation of the Twitter of yore. But what does this mean, exactly?
I joined Twitter in October 2009. Not the earliest of adopters (it launched in July 2006, per Wikipedia) but still early enough that I believe I can speak to these glory days. The most common description I remember when I was learning about Twitter and how to navigate it was that it was like a big cocktail party. You just "walk" up to a group and join in (aka, reply to a tweet and start a conversation).
And largely, at least from my corner of the world, that's what happened. I was writing fiction at the time, and not surprisingly, there were lots of writers on Twitter. Which makes sense—people who love writing words would gravitate toward this new way of written communication that basically felt like texting with strangers. I bonded with author Kristin Contino over something related to pop music (Spice Girls, maybe?) and found out that another of my favorite authors, Allison Winn Scotch, liked the '90s TV show Felicity as much as I did. It was fun and light, and all the things people said about Threads in the first few days.
In my experience, Twitter circa 2009 was also useful in planning in-person meetups. Hashtags allowed us to figure out things like who would be attending the same conference. Once there, we could use that same channel to post that we'd be at the bar area, toward the left of the giant pop-up banner, wearing green. A few tweets later, the cocktail party moved off the internet and into real life. We had plenty to talk about not just because of the shared experience of the conference, but because we'd been "talking" for months online.
There was a lot of talk at the time about Twitter as a "backchannel." Allowing us to hop on a hashtag and chat about topics being presented at a conference. Even allowing those not attending to get some snippets of what was happening in real-time. In the other sandbox I play in, higher education, there was some experimentation with allowing, rather than banning (shocking at the time!) cell phone use in class so that students could tweet amongst themselves or ask questions about the subject being presented via a thread that was posted on the screen behind the presenter1.
I've been thinking a lot about these early days lately. I feel the nostalgia too. Here on Substack's Notes feature, there are a lot of writers supporting writers, sharing each other's work. In Threads this week, there have been lots of fun introductory posts. Someone asked about the best TV shows of all time, and of course, Allison Winn Scotch and I chimed in about Felicity.
It's the same and yet not, somehow.
Some very quick, cursory internet research tells me that Twitter had about 58 million users in 2009. Today, in 2023, they have about 450 million2. Even if use is down and that number is slightly off, it's still reasonable to say that it's way larger than back in those early days. The big news about Threads was how quickly users adopted it. How they had nearly 50 million users within several days and hit 100 million within a week. But it's worth noting that these are still way smaller numbers than 450 million.
My hunch is that for those first few days, this new thing felt nostalgic simply because it was smaller. And in that, it was more like early Twitter. But it's not going to stay small. While the pace of growth will slow, it's not going to stay at 100 million, or even cap out at 200 million.
Social media, this thing that was occasionally a backchannel to conferences and classrooms 15 years ago, is now a backchannel to our whole lives in a way that it just wasn't in its infancy. We're now regularly watching each other's lives unfold on tiny screens we hold in the palm of our hands across a myriad of platforms.
Which is why we aren't ever going back to 2009 Twitter.
But you know what, that's okay, because I'm pretty sure it's not actually old Twitter we're craving. There's this normalization that occurs when someone talks about feeling the same way you do about a thing, when we realize we like the same shows and songs. They are these tiny little snippets of human connection that are easier to find when sites are smaller, and we've tricked ourselves into thinking we just want that experience back when what we actually want in our souls is to feel more deeply connected.
Which I am certain won't occur entirely in any app, old or new. For that, we're going to have to bring the cocktail party out of the backchannel and into real life.
I'll be in the bar area to the left the giant pop-up banner, wearing green.
See you there.
Beautiful Thing of the Week
While we are on the subject, I will mention that this particular setting on Threads is refreshing:
It's easy to talk about connection, but SO much harder to put into practice. The very human reason we gravitate to social media is that it's easy. I'm hoping to explore this idea of IRL connection and how it feeds well-being and creativity more here. I would love to hear about ways you connect with others off-screen. (Or just about how much you also love the Spice Girls and Felicity, we can start there too.)
While I'd say this concept never really took off, I would also say that it's back in full force in virtual classes. We just call it the "chat" now and do it all in one piece of software, Zoom.
I joined Twitter very, very late and have never really embraced it. I don’t like cocktail party-style mingling IRL, though, so maybe that’s my beef with Twitter? I just find it really difficult to navigate.
As far as IRL connection, I find being outdoors extremely helpful. I’ve had so many lovely interactions with people when I’m out walking my dogs, running, or hiking. I’ve made some of my best friends out on the trails.