Slightly Off KIlter

On the Internet, Nobody Knows You’re a Dog

— from a cartoon by Peter Steiner,
published in The New Yorker, July 5, 1993.

Who are you? Are you always the “same” person? When you’re alone? When you’re with friends (old or new)? When you’re with your parents? Your spouse, children, co-workers, the checker at the grocery store?

When you’re on the Internet?

On the Internet, many of us are different. No one sees us. We can “be” whomever we want to be. We can be more relaxed. We can be more personal. We can be… different.

The Internet is an interesting place to meet people. In many ways, it’s a great “equalizer”. Everyone is anonymous to a certain degree. Everyone types.

I’ve been on mailing lists with people who are blind (I know because they told me) and use text-to-speech software to read their email. I’ve met people who are deaf or whose native language isn’t English, but they type English perfectly well and we understand each other. I’ve had email conversations with men and women I’ve never met “in person”. I can’t tell you what they look like ѿ whether they are tall or short, young or old. I can’t tell you their age, race, hair color, tone of voice or accent. I know only as much about them as they care to reveal to me (and I have to presume they’ve told me the truth). They know just as much about me.

There have been stories in the news about people who adopt “secret” identities on the Net — people who pretend to be more physically attractive; people who claim to be younger (or older) than they really are. People who take advantage of their anonymity. People who lie.
In the parts of the Net I inhabit (mailing lists, web pages, forums), I tend to believe most people are much as they say they are; nonetheless, I can never really be sure about most of them.

Prior to the advent of the WWW, we had newsgroups and mailing lists. Today we have added home pages and weblogs. Every day, more and more of us take advantage of the ever-increasing opportunity to do something our mothers cautioned us not to do — we talk to strangers.

In so doing, we open wide the possibility for friendships with people we never would have met in person. We also run the risk of meeting some classical jerks… but if we’re careful, that’s much simpler to handle than it would be in person. If you’re hosting a party and one guest gets drunk and disorderly or becomes difficult or abusive, you have to find physical means of throwing him out of your home. On the Net, if you don’t like someone, you click the “Ignore” button, hit the delete key, or add that address to your email “killfile” and poof!, the relationship is ended with minimal fuss and bother (and no calls to the local precinct).

I recently requested access to a stranger’s password-protected weblog. I had a reason for doing this; she’s part of a webring I was interested in scanning. Also, she invited me (in a way) by posting a notice to the effect that the weblog was protected but “if you want to come in, just ask and I’ll probably say yes”. So I asked and she said yes.

After the first few pages I read, I wondered if I should really be there. After all, I don’t know this woman. We live at opposite ends of the country and have lead very different lives. Many of her entries were of a rather personal nature, certainly more personal than any of mine usually are. I felt as if I were reading her diary (which, in effect, is exactly what I am doing).

Then, as I read more, I realized that while her entries were personal and private (to some degree), they weren’t secret. That is, they were published, with her full knowledge and under her control, to a short list of people she was trusting to read them — and to make carefully-considered comments. I was honored to be trusted to read and comment. I’m well aware that if I abuse that trust, I’ll lose more than my password privileges; I’ll lose her respect. As an Internet Community member, her respect means far more to me than the password to her weblog.

I recently had an opportunity to share with this woman a story or two from my past which I felt had some bearing on a situation she’s currently discussing with herself (and her online circle). I was pleased to be able to do so, as I felt that I was able to give something back in return for the trust she extended me in providing access to her journal. I feel that I’ve taken another step toward making a friend.