Michael Kinsley writes in the Post this morning about the way in which the Internet seems to make people want to reveal even the most mundane details about their lives:
There is something about the Web that brings out the ego monster in everybody. It’s not just the well-established tendency to be nasty. When you write for the Web, you open yourself up to breathtakingly vicious vitriol. People wish things on your mother, simply for bearing you, that you wouldn’t wish on Hitler.
But even in their quieter modes, denizens of the Web seem to lug around huge egos and deeply questionable assumptions about how interesting they and their lives might be to others.
This is strange. Anonymity, for better or for worse, is supposed to be one of the signature qualities of the Web. As that dog in the New Yorker cartoon says, “On the Internet, nobody knows you’re a dog.” The Internet is a place where you can interact with other people and have complete control over how much they know about you. Or supposedly that is the case, and virtually everybody on the Internet is committed to achieving that goal.
But anonymity does not actually seem to interest many of the Web’s most devoted users. They are the ones who start their own sites or sign up for MySpace or submit videos to YouTube. Indeed, the most successful Web sites seem to be those where people can abandon anonymity and use the Internet to stake their claims as unique individuals. Here is a list of my friends. Here are all the CDs in my collection. Here is a picture of my dog. On the Internet, not only does everybody know that you’re a dog, everybody knows what kind of dog, how old, your taste in collars, your favorite dog food recipe and so on.
Kinsley seems to find much of what goes on at places like MySpace silly. And, quite honestly, it probably is. But it’s also a story of mass self-expression that is still working itself out.
