Feedback

Originally written August 20, 2011

I think people thrive on feedback. Most people, anyway. I'm not sure if I envy or pity those who don't, because theirs must be a world of some serious solitude. Where no one else is needed or invited. But I think this is why people love social media like blogs and Facebook and Twitter. Because you can just kind of toss out an idea and go, "Hey, guys, what do you think about this?" and the purpose of those platforms is so that your friends or others can offer their opinions in whatever time or way they fancy. That's why it was so cool in the beginning. And why it's still so cool for people who are influential. But I think the ease of the whole thing may have damaged it now. Because as effortless as it is to throw out an idea into open internet-dome, it's equally painless to read, take in, and then move on without another thought. The movement for feedback has become kind of stagnant. Whereas at the beginning it was an assumed obligation, now it's the most gracious of courtesies to offer the whole of your thoughts on the project or idea a person presents to you, the internet audience. Granted, you can kind of go half-way. With a click you can simply "like" something, implying that you have read and at least half-heartedly agree with it, but not enough to expound upon your feelings or to challenge the notion further. Heaven forbid a discussion should break out.

I find this new scarcity of feedback really sad. And I understand why it happens. As a person who uses the internet, I sometimes feel so plagued with requests for my feedback that all I can do is walk away and ignore them all. It's a tiring thing, coming up with informed opinions on all that's available to see in this vast web world (world wide web, ha ha). But then, when you become the person who finally gets up the guts to toss out a precious idea, probably one that you've slaved over to word just right or you've rewritten again and again to find just the perfect melody, when you are the creator and you're sending your little baby to the stage, the last thing you want to hear--even, perhaps, after boos and jeers--is crickets.

This is a two-way street. You can't go around consuming across the internet giving no feedback, and then expect everyone to stop what they're doing and write you a long note of criticism or praise for your creation. You can't take three weeks to respond to a person's carefully crafted email and then become more and more disappointed every hour they don't write back after you've sent yours. There's give and take here. And people are more important than online games and stupid human tricks on youtube.