Shelfies and the Quiet Internet

Shelfies has launched! You should definitely subscribe. The idea is exactly as simple as it seems: people send us photos of their bookshelf (or -shelves), and tell us a bit about why those books (or other objects) are special to them. We’ve been secretly squirreling away shelfies for a little while as proof of concept, and some of the books and shelves and stories are truly marvellous.

I’ve been doing a lot of pontificating lately about The State of the Internet, because once you get to a certain age and job title, you’re expected to have opinions on that sort of thing. When the internet began (which, just to say, was not that long ago), it was very, very bitty. You needed to know the number to dial, then the address to type in. People might not remember, but even after the web was a thing, there was a boom period of ‘Yellow Pages’-type books. If you needed to use the internet, you’d flip through a good ol’ bus-sized directory to find a useful site. Before that, if you wanted to find the appropriate bulletin board or file directory, you’d crib numbers from the back pages of zines, or from flyers at record stores. It was bitty.

Then we had the heydey of the town square. Probably our first warning sign was that our Great Public Spaces were created by a budding incel wanting to digitally molest the girls in his freshman class, but hey, away we go. At the same time, we had search wars: Google and Microsoft and Yahoo (bless) competing to become the ‘front page’ of the internet. A few years before, how you even got onto the internet was local, discrete, discreet and entirely fragmented. Now, everyone is logging on to the same sites, through the same sites. Capitalism kettled our user journeys.

Now, the town squares are irrevocably, irreversibly shit. The only useful parts of Meta (née Facebook) are Groups (local, discrete, discreet and fragmented) and WhatsApp (local, discrete, discreet and fragmented). The only useful part of X (née Twitter) is as a the punchline to a joke. Mass still exists, but only in the sense that tiny sherds of popular culture surf algorithms to the crest of visibility before disappearing again.

So what’s next? Heck if I know. The way I see it:

• Bots, ads and algorithms will continue to make the ‘big’ platforms unusable. As advertisers leave and legacy users die (sorry, Facebook), they’ll become increasingly untenable.

• Millennials have a parasocial relationship with the platform itself. Gen Z (and younger), however, are intrinisically less loyal to platforms. They’ll be on more platforms; less loyally. They’ll find it easier to migrate when a platform isn’t working for them, and have less emotional baggage about doing so.

• With legislation on the horizon, the big networks and pipelines are embracing privacy rather than be accountable for the nastiness that takes place on their platforms.

• We’re all just really, really tired. I am hoping - praying - that the 2024 election (in 40-odd days, don’t forget to register to vote) is the last seismic moment for a little while, as we’re all running on fumes at this point.

But I do think - perhaps wistfully - ‘the quiet internet’ will have its moment:

• Optimised privacy settings

• Curated feeds and niche interests

• Lurking and likes versus comments and outrage

• 1:1 contact and small network or interest-led communities

• Deep, not broad influencers. Think ‘lady with a pet wolfhound’ vs ‘Mr Beast’

There’s no question that this theory is entirely driven by my personal taste. I like the quiet internet - I like choosing my content, owning my user journey, chatting with my friends (and only my friends) and seeing the things I want to see, when and how I want to see them. I would rather receive specialist newsletters on topics I care about than a flood of videos on trends that have already passed me by. I want to choose, not chase.

I don’t think we’ll get all the way to this - admittedly nostalgic, somewhat bucolic - vision of the internet. But I do think that the shoutynet, in its current form, is over. And if we’re moving to a world of whispers, it is worth thinking of who exactly, you want to hear from, and start planning accordingly.

Oh, wow, this started with Shelfies! Anyway, one of the reasons I love this idea is that it is the quiet internet in practice. One small thing, of specific interest, done well. It is 100% exactly what it is: an undeniably quaint throwback to the niche internet days of yore. I hope you enjoy it as much as we do.

I’m hosting a chat with three magnificant fantasy authors at Waterstone’s Piccadilly on October 26. Tasha Suri, James Logan and John Gwynne will all be chatting about world-building, storytelling, magic, monsters, and everything else that makes books worth reading (and life worth living).

A couple weeks ago I mentioned that I’m introducing two films at the Bristol Film Festival in November. This is now four films! I’m diving straight into the deep end, and as long as I don’t mix up my notes, everything will be totally fine:

• November 29th: Moon and The Matrix

• November 30th: Tron and Blade Runner

A challenge for you, learned readers. I’ll be recommending a list of ‘suggested companion reading’ to a local bookseller, so they have the appropriate table of goodies on the night. What books would you recommend to folks who enjoy these films?

what I’m reading, online:

I love this long read (thanks, Web Curios) about how we search for knowledge on the internet. This is mostly (kinda) about design and UX, but it is also, I would argue, a necessary read when it comes to understanding how and why misinformation spreads, and how we can make facts more compelling.

How Julia Child was the role model for user-centred design. This is really cool. Child’s work in making good food accessible is well-known. Her more discreet role in making the space of the kitchen more accessible is less heralded.

I’m currently working on a piece about fantasy and the far right. I’d like to pretend Hobby Drama articles like this one about ‘How Sword & Sorcery’s Reactionary Uncle Torpedoed a Classic Anthology Series’ are important research, but, really, I’m a shameless drama llama. (grabs popcorn)

what I’m reading, offline:

I really like Beth O’Leary. The Switch is her second book, and it is very sweet. A burned out London consultant and her feisty village grandmother swap places! They rediscover themselves! They meet nice boys! It is ludicrously sweet, but not neauseatingly so.

My latest Dark Academia read is Katy Hays’ The Cloisters, which is The Secret History But With Art Post-Grads. Everyone is unaccountably beautiful and horny, but there’s lots of art and tarot, and the settting is so gloriously rendered that I was a little sad when the plot (belatedly) kicked in. The whole thing is very escapist (including the final twists), in that way that Dark Academia can be. But unlike lesser works of the genre, the protagonist of the The Cloisters knows her life is awesome. Yes, the stakes are high and there’s murder and stuff, but she’s clearly having the time of her life and making active choices to embrace every moment. You go girl.

I reread T.H. White’s The Sword in the Stone for a (since-killed) article, and it is one of those rare and wonderful works that gets better every single time. We also watched the Disney movie again, which, although wonderful, gets a few key things wrong - predominantly the relationship between Arthur and Kay. (Which robs viewers of one of the book’s most powerful moments at the very end.) It is truly lovely and very highly recommended. I’ve read the entirety of The Once and Future King, of course, but feel no desire to carry on with this reread. The beauty of The Sword in the Stone is that you can pretend it ends there. As part of the whole, it is a perfect foundation for the tragedy that is Arthur’s life. But read in isolation, it is a wistful, beautiful book - a British Dandelion Wine.

Random The Sword in the Stone fun facts. The American edition had endpapers by Robert Lawson, who was a famous children’s author and illustrator (Ben & Me, Ferdinand, etc). The Disney film was storyboarded (and written!) by Bill Peet, who was also a famous children’s author and illustrator (Kermit the Hermit, Cyrus the Unsinkable Sea Serpent, etc). Both are really very, very good. And the interior illustrations in the first edition were by… T.H. White himself, and, they are, arguably, the best of them all.