I remember early 2009 as a boom for hundreds of how-to-Twitter posts, most of them annoyingly focused on marketing. Such lists are problematic: Every experience is unique, and generalizations just don’t apply very well to most people. I liked Ike Pignott’s question—”What is your experience using the web interface on Twitter?”—to pose to people as a filter before listening to advice on how to use the service. It was a good way to suss out who had experienced Twitter and who had just created an account.

Among the many list posts, two stood out. One was Tom Smith’s twelve problems with Twitter, and the other was Louis Gray’s thoughts on social network depression. In their own way, both articles contemplated the effects of using Twitter, couched mainly in how much of a gap there is between expectation and practice.

Smith’s Problems
Tom Smith listed several expectations that were, in his opinion, not being met by Twitter. These included:

• You feel you have an audience
• You feel you have something to do
• You feel you are connected
• You are meta thinking about meta thinking

One of the underlying values of this critique is that followers are only paying attention if they show it by responding or at least read everything. This is a blogger-marketer perspective on Twitter, and a good example of why the term microblogging may be a misnomer.

The popular aversion to personal trivia is based on the notion that such information is meant to be the equivalent of news. Rather, knowing how someone is feeling, what food they are eating, or when they are going to sleep is relational glue. This is the information you don’t typically write lengthy real-time articles about. It is information you would only get by being in the same room with that person, observing cues not otherwise available through computer-mediated communication.

One looming value Twitter is destined to give is the opportunity for longitudinal reflection. Thinking about what you are thinking about is precisely the kind of activity we should be doing more to facilitate. We have an obsession with doing, with being productive in tangible ways. Learning, though, involves periods of reflection. You are most certainly living your life when you stop to contemplate why you are smelling the roses.

Gray’s Depression
This is precisely the point of Louis Gray’s list of catalysts for social network depression.

• Getting less attention
• Repetition
• Despised popularity
• False prophets
• Absence
• Lost focus
• Snarkiness
• Lost value

What is interesting about this list is the diversity of things of value that social network use provides. Getting less attention and despising popularity are two opposite ends of the spectrum, for example, yet both can spawn depression in different people.

These are also largely issues of perception. The world we see probably isn’t changing as drastically as we think it is. We, as individuals, are usually the ones in flux. Being in a crappy mood to start the day likely means something on the above list will get blamed for the depression. Likewise, if we enter a social network happy, the world may seem more rosy or forgivable than it did the previous day. The world changes when we interpret change.

New Expectations to Manage
Given the recent buzz about the impending release of Twitter lists, I found Gray’s comments on “despised popularity” interesting:

The individual can start to question whether what we do online is more a herd mentality than one derived based on our own preferences, and questions the popular users’ value. (Example)

The suggestion is that as lists are created, the same names are repeated time and again – whether they are bringing real value, or not adding much from their presumed areas of expertise. But as with #2, even if a person’s original value was extremely clear, by the time you’ve run into them multiple times, across networks, their own value to you is likely diminished.

This may be one of the unintended consequences of Twitter lists: depression. On the one hand, the slate is clean and the same hunger for inclusion will probably dominate the early weeks of list creation. Basic network dynamics are against those not already well connected and known, however. The rich will get richer. Those with expectations of attaining celebrity status by being active with the list feature are not likely to have their needs met.

Twitter continues to change, as do each of us. The longer you spend tweeting, the more you might benefit from utilizing a tool like Loud Twitter to help you reflect.

This Christmas season, though, has been painfully short and lacking in resources. It hit me today how much my ideal of Christmas had given way to realities of economics, time and life style choices. Somewhere between pulling the car over to wait out backseat kid fights and discovering the run on under-the-counter kitchen radios at Best Buy came yesterday, I realized how much had been carved away. It is depressing.

Spreading holiday fear

I tweeted as much, and true to Twitter form got some replies both quick and compassionate. My first reaction was to feel embarrassed. There are people starving in China, the saying goes. It isn’t difficult to imagine situations of domestic strife, human tragedy, and even more economic problems then we have. I stopped going down that road when I had another insight: knowing there are people worse off than me doesn’t make me any less depressed about what is happening to my Christmases.

Once upon a time, I was routinely finished shopping by Thanksgiving. In that happy scenario, all I had to do was savor the lights and anticipate the faces. I was able to sleep, to relax, to help others catch up. Every year, it seems, I have a short-lived New Year’s resolution to return to that advanced state of preparedness. Every Christmas, I seem to slouch a bit more toward Bethlehem. What is most disturbing to me is how much of my current mood is being triggered by commerce, or lack thereof. This should all reverse course with a normal life, one characterized by a regular job and a requisite number of hours sleeping each night.

I have inside information that Santa is bringing Archie a friend in a couple days. I got to meet this friend yesterday, when he started bonding with our depressed beagle. My inability to get gifts—or even make them, time has been so precious—for the people I care about will probably be eased by hugging the new addition to our family for a few hours. That image takes the edge off.

I’m anxious to end 2008, which was double-booked from start to finish. I’m ready for next, but current has not let go. So I’ve decided to shake it loose. Tonight, I’m ending the year early with a late-night showing of “It’s a Wonderful Life,” my annual booster shot for holiday spirit. My gift to myself and others will be wrapping up the past with a nice little bow of Zuzu’s petals.

Happy holidays to everyone.