Facebook’s “On This Day” feature has always felt really strange to me. It’s an algorithm that’s aware of its weirdness, hence the almost apologetic “We care about you and the memories you share here” message that surrounds it. As if it knows it’s bound to get it wrong and show you something you don’t want to be reminded of.

Leigh Alexander provides an interesting perspective on that feature and our social media “memories” in What Facebook’s On This Day shows about the fragility of our online lives:

Part of the palpable dissonance comes from the fact that many of our posts were never intended to become “memories” in the first place. An important question gets raised here: what’s the purpose of all this “content” we serve to platforms, if it’s useless in constructing a remotely valuable history of ourselves? Are we creating anything that’s built to last, that’s worth reflecting on, or have social media platforms led us to prize only the thoughts of the moment? […]

We generally think of social media as a tool to make grand announcements and to document important times, but just as often – if not more – it’s just a tin can phone, an avenue by which to toss banal witterings into an uncaring universe. Rather, it’s a form of thinking out loud, of asserting a moment for ourselves on to the noisy face of the world.

Despite multiple attempts I still don’t understand how Snapchat works, but from what I understand from the Young People this is a big reason for its appeal. There isn’t an expectation that something you post on Snapchat has to be profound enough to become a permanent memory. As one of my friends Simon1 put it: Snapchat is there to “Share (not remember) moments.” (Side note—if you haven’t done so yet, please read Ben Rosen’s My Little Sister Taught Me How To “Snapchat Like The Teens”. It is absolutely bonkers.)

So Alexander’s point is an interesting one: how do we take control of our online memories? It’s not possible to know for sure, in a moment, if we’re experiencing something we’d like to remember forever. Maybe the best solution is to keep it the way it’s always been: rely on our brains to remind us of things. We can always then dig up those old photos ourselves—without the help of an algorithm—if we really want to relive the moment.

1. Some of my best friends are Young People. ↩

Matthew Malady has an interesting take on the “I went offline and lived to talk about it” essay. In The Useless Agony of Going Offline he discusses one of the biggest benefits of technology—knowing more things:

At the end of the experiment, I wasn’t dying to get my phone back or to access Facebook. I just wanted to get back to being better informed. My devices and the Internet, as much as they are sometimes annoying and frustrating and overflowing with knuckleheads, help me to do that. If getting outside and taking walks, or sitting in silence, or walking dogs, or talking with loved ones on the phone got me to that same place, I’d be more than happy to change things up.

This is similar to Clive Thompson’s main thesis in his excellent book Smarter Than You Think. Our ability to gain knowledge and collaborate more effectively makes all the negative aspects of being online worth the effort.

This is an interesting story on the topic of algorithmic empathy1. In Hospitals Employ Email ‘Empathy’ To Help Doctors And Patients Keep In Touch Barbara Feder Ostrov discusses a program that sends patients automated emails to ask them how they’re doing:

Doctors can send daily emails with information timed to milestones in surgery prep and recovery and ask patients or caregivers for feedback on specific issues patients may face during recovery.

The doctors may write their own email scripts, as Newport Orthopedics’ physicians did, or use the company’s suggested content. An online dashboard helps doctors and administrators keep track of which patients are doing well and who might need more follow-up care. Patients can also communicate with office staff about medications and office visits. Their responses to daily emails can trigger a call from the doctor’s office.

A patient might see this message: “How are you? Let me know so I can make sure you’re okay. I have four questions for you today.”

The program has had some promising results, but I’d be interested to know if patients are aware that the messages are automated. To put it another way, is it ethical for doctors to send automated, health-related messages that look like they’re individually crafted?

1. See Personal AI assistants: the battle and the war. ↩

In a journal article for Computational Culture Erica Robles-Anderson and Patrik Svensson presents a scholarly critique of PowerPoint, and it is fantastic. It’s long and in-depth and the rare academic article that is a joy to read. From the conclusion of “One Damn Slide After Another”: PowerPoint at Every Occasion for Speech:

PowerPoint is just one example of the oft-overlooked conditioning of knowledge production. The software profoundly shaped basic social expectations, technical conditions, and architectural pre-requisites for speech yet it was uncritically absorbed in nearly every quarter. PowerPoint does not zoom. It does not allow spontaneous comparisons. It does not accommodate several screens, multiple threads, or distributed live collaborations. It makes the analytic move of systematic comparison, so prevalent in late nineteenth and early twentieth century information presentations, extremely difficult to make. Moreover, its expansion has meant that once distinct situations have become more alike. Meetings, sermons, lectures, and talks increasingly employ the technics of commercial demonstration. Twenty-first century occasions for speech are structured by a platform that enforces the paradigm of one-slide-at-a-time.

In An End to Parking? Clive Thompson writes about an aspect of self-driving cars that I haven’t seen before: the impact it will have on urban design. In particular, the amount of space we need for parking should change dramatically:

Robot cars could also drive much more closely to one another, packing far more vehicles onto a street. […]

What’s more, they’d never need to park. At the University of Texas-Austin, Kara Kockelman—a professor of transportation engineering—modeled the impact of autonomous ride-sharing vehicles and found that each one could replace up to a dozen regular cars. The robocars could drive all day long, stopping only to refuel or for maintenance; at night, when there was less demand, they could drive out to a remote parking spot on the outskirts of town. The upshot, Kockelman figures, is that if you shifted the entire city to autonomous cars, it would need a staggering 90 percent less parking than it needs today.

Cortney Harding makes some good points about the behaviors of different music buying personas in Is There a Streaming Ceiling?

The future is beginning to look like it will be a two tiered system — the top group of music fans will pay for streaming and everyone else will buy a handful of albums a year. Think of all the people you know who bought the Adele album, and I’ll bet that for many of them, it was the only album they bought this year. Many of these consumers aren’t all the interested in what streaming can offer them — they are content with hearing new music on the radio, buying one or two albums a year, and perhaps seeing one or two concerts.

It feels like the music industry has never been this complicated.

I’ve seen Anshu Sharma’s Why Big Companies Keep Failing: The Stack Fallacy come up in my feeds a bunch of times over the last couple of days. I personally found the writing quite confusing, and had to read it several times to figure out what he was trying to say. I even drew a picture to help me.

If I understand the argument correctly, Anshu is saying that wherever your core business is in the technology stack, it’s easier to expand your market by going down the stack than up. Like so:

This is obviously an oversimplification and leaves a lot of things out, but it was just a way for me to make sense of the article. That said, it’s this part in particular that stood out for me:

The bottleneck for success often is not knowledge of the tools, but lack of understanding of the customer needs. Database engineers know almost nothing about what supply chain software customers want or need. They can hire for that, but it is not a core competency.

The reason for this is that you are yourself a natural customer of the lower layers. Apple knew what it wanted from an ideal future microprocessor. It did not have the skills necessary to build it, but the customer needs were well understood. Technical skills can be bought/acquired, whereas it is very hard to buy a deep understanding of market needs.

In other words, it’s easier for Apple to take on Intel than it is for Apple to take on Facebook. Likewise, it’s easier for Amazon (AWS) to take on hardware manufacturers than it is for them to take on Salesforce. And the reason for this is that most companies understand the customer needs of the components their core business is built out of, but they don’t understand the customer needs of the businesses that other companies build using their components.

Update: This tweet from Peter Matthaei is a much better summary than the one I came up with:

.@RianVDM If your company uses something, it’s down the stack; anything that companies can build with your stuff is up the stack.

— Peter Matthaei (@mobivangelist) January 20, 2016

It’s an interesting theory, especially if you consider the logical conclusion that apps and services like Facebook and Salesforce (etc.) are at the top of the stack, and everyone not originally in the software business is going to have a really difficult time competing with them. I’d be curious to hear what others think of this…

Sarah Kessler sets out to treat an unproved disorder with an unproven form of therapy, and lived to tell the tale. From What I Learned In 12 Weeks Of Therapy For Social Media Addiction, about using online chat therapy provider Talkspace:

Though everyone says they’re addicted, [Roni Frank, co-founder of Talkspace] says, they aren’t necessarily motivated to solve the problem. She compares it to cigarettes. “In the early years, people were smoking like crazy,” she says, “and at some point, everybody started to be aware of how harmful it is. I think the same thing will happen with social media, and how it is basically promoting poor mental health.”

Social media therapy is not the only aspect of Talkspace that has yet to be fully embraced by the mainstream. The idea that therapeutic help can come from an app, in general, has been met with some skepticism. “Developing a relationship with your patients in online therapies can be a problem, because you can’t see emotional cues,” Madalina Sucala, a clinical psychologist at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai who has researched how clinicians feel about e-therapy, told The Verge, “and sometimes you can’t convey empathy.”

Filing this in my ever-growing “what a time to be alive” category.