Zero Hashes

In my previous post, I began inquiring about how the new generation will deal with the omnipresence of AI models in their daily lives, and how would we maintain a community in an age of eloquent bots.

Before going there, I thought I should start by telling what I know about getting here, to begin with. So, this is the tale of a kid's quest for text expressions...

The digital growls were a symphony to the kid, like the feeling of liberation when you finally slip your wrists free from steel shackles, despite mangled fingers.

The rite had been fulfilled, and he was now surfing the boundless waves of the world wide web. For some, it'd be about catching up on the latest buzz from their rock idol's fan club or indulging in the thrill of downloading a risqué image. But for the kid, it was his cue to voice his thoughts.

Countless rooms lay before him, each dedicated to a particular subject or location, offering a platform for the kid to voice his thoughts, comments, and grievances. Each one brimming with fellow cybernauts sharing similar interests.

In this realm, he joined clubs, absorbed knowledge from others' experiences, connected with new individuals, reconnected with familiar faces from around the globe, or occasionally met familiar faces pretending to be new individuals. It was chaotic, unpredictable, and fun.

He was a faceless enigma, all that mattered was his messages’ content, and the flair with which he could craft text-editing scripts and bots for entertainment. Flaunting the pirated tunes he was playing on Winamp was a coveted skill, an emblem of supremacy reflecting his command over his computer's capabilities.

This was how the kid spent the bulk of his online hours: discovering hidden online sites untouched by search engine crawlers, sharing news about the next big video game, or simply engaging in light-hearted banter about everything and nothing. This was IRC, a lawless territory, with only the fear of the virtual quake known as net splits disrupting the conversation.

However, as with all things tech-related, new eras begin, systems become obsolete. It wasn't the allure of instant messaging platforms like ICQ or MSN that snagged the kid's curiosity, though, it was something else. A realm that allowed him not just to trade messages, but to create a digital representation of himself, a hero, or even a villain when he so desired. In this virtual reality, known as Ragnarok Online, he'd do far more than merely converse; he'd slay monsters, forge weapons, and uncover rare treasures that could bring him virtual riches.

He joined a guild, sworn in as a foot soldier, battling to hold dominion over the pixelated universe. Every Sunday afternoon, he donned the mantle of protector, a shield for his band's virtual strongholds. His digital personas: a mage who conjured meteor showers into the field, and a blacksmith, a craftsman and a purveyor of shiny gold pieces. In this way, he bartered his skills for camaraderie.

Yet, as time spun by, he sensed something was off. This wasn't the raw anarchy of the Internet Relay Chat, the old digital frontier. This place had norms, had guidelines, lacked the wild unpredictability, the soul siblings he could truly vibe with. This was... different. He began to navigate this strange realm, shuffling between characters and domains, on a quest for that elusive missing piece. Eventually, he resigned to the reality that something had been lost in translation. Maybe it was irretrievable. So, he shrugged, chose to move forward, immersing himself in his role, and engaging in small talk with tradesmen and wanderers in the grand hall of Prontera, all the while peddling his expertise to the one with the heaviest purse.

And then, it happened again. No more shrouds, no more anonymity. It was time to reveal your true identity, to unmask the kid behind the enigma. Social media was buzzing. No, it wasn't Facebook, not quite yet. It was Orkut, the digital republic where freedom was plentiful, but restraints were subtly suggested. You could remain incognito if you preferred, but faceless profiles didn't attract many chats. People yearned for a genuine interaction, something akin to real-life conversation. Orkut was fun, filled with clubs to connect with, laugh together, share tales. But the pressure to reveal yourself was immense. This wasn't what he was in search of. Creativity was still present, but stifled. All profiles seemed to be molded from the same template, a detailed breakdown of self. And every detail needed to be catchy, intriguing, unique. The badge of supremacy no longer shone for tech skills but now for your social prowess.

Friends and testimonials could be amassed like pokemon. But unlike pokemon, these “friends” were not there to take on challenges or seek shared adventures, they were just a tally. Conversations were relegated to public forums, where the aim was to ignite the most incendiary debate. Clever tactics were cheered on, memes and click-baits were born. The kid did not see the sense in bringing real life to the virtual world, it felt redundant to him, so he retreated. He went back to the local chats in his favorite multiplayer games, the best sanctuary he could find.

Years have scrolled by now, a chasm has opened up from the digital hustle and bustle of social media. Here we are, in the present. The kid has struck a harmony between his online and offline identities, comfortably meandering in the relative obscurity of forums and undemanding platforms like Reddit, whilst simultaneously broadcasting his memories and moments on Instagram. He's relinquished the pursuit of reclaiming the IRC's enchantment. All landscapes have been charted, norms and guidelines have become the new norm. There's no more hide and seek. Every pixel is claimed by one conglomerate or another, with user input nothing more than fodder for data analysis.

The privacy battle is lost, there's no point straddling a lifeless horse. But the relics of the past still linger, some revamped, reshaped, repurposed, but enduring nonetheless. There's no rule against using them, if you're so inclined. And there's no need to conform to the prescribed methods, or the crowd's expectations. You're free to imprint your own style, which is exactly what the kid attempts.

Communities aren't fashioned from the scaffolding and edicts imposed by a corporation. They're built on spontaneity, empathy and kindness, with a generous sprinkling of the unpredictability of chance encounters.