In the early days of the internet, online conversations were an event. The technology was novel, and it was suddenly possible to socialize with a whole bunch of friends at a distance, all at once. No more calling your friends one by one, you could talk to them all at the same time!
Many of us would spend hours on IRC, or pull all-nighters bantering on MSN Messenger or AIM. But then, something happened, and many of us found ourselves having shorter conversations online, if we were having any at all. Thinking back to my younger days, and comparing them with today, I think I’ve figured out what it is that’s changed.
Twenty five years ago, a lot more of us were stuck getting by with dialup. The Internet wasn’t always on back then. You had to make the decision to connect to it, and sit at your computer to use it.
Similarly, logging into an IRC room was a deliberate action. It was a sign that you were setting aside time to communicate. If you were in a chat room, you were by and large there to talk. On AIM or MSN Messenger, it was much the same deal. If you wanted to have a chat, you’d leave your status on available. If you didn’t wanna talk, you’d set yourself to Busy or Away, or log off entirely.
This intentionality fostered meaningful interactions online. Back then, you’d sign in and you’d flick through your list of friends. If someone’s icon was glowing green, you knew they were probably up to talk. You might have a quick chat, or you could talk for hours. Indeed, logging on to a chatroom for an extended session was a pastime enjoyed by many.
Back then, people were making the conscious decision to set aside time to talk. Conversations were more focused and meaningful because both parties had set aside time to engage. This intentionality led to richer, more engaging discussions because participants were fully present.
Furthermore, the need to log in and out helped create a healthy boundary between life online and off. Users balanced their online interactions with other responsibilities and activities. There was a clear distinction between online and offline life, allowing for more complete engagement in both. When you logged off, that was it. There was no way for your online friends to get a message to you in real time, so your focus was fully on what was going on in front of you.
T’was the endless march of technology that changed the meta. Broadband internet would keep our computers online round the clock. You could still log in and out of your chat apps, of course, and when you walked away from your computer, you were offline.
But technology didn’t stop there. Facebook came along, and tacked on Messenger in turn. The app would live on the smartphones in our pockets, while mobile data connections meant a message from the Internet could come through at any time.
Facebook’s always-on messaging was right there, tied to a website many of us were already using on the regular. Suddenly, booting up another app like AIM or MSN seemed archaic when we could just chat in the browser. The addition of the app to smartphones put Messenger everywhere we went. For many, it even started to supplant SMS, in addition to making other online chat platforms obsolete.
Always-on messaging seemed convenient, but it came with a curse. It’s fundamentally changed the dynamics of our online interactions, and not always for the better.
Perpetual availability means that there is a constant pressure to respond. In the beginning, Facebook implemented “busy” and “available” status messages, but they’re not really a thing anymore. Now, when you go to message a friend, you’re kind of left in to the dark as to what they’re doing and how they’re feeling. Maybe they’re chilling at home, and they’re down for a deep-and-meaningful conversation. Or maybe they’re working late at work, and they don’t really want to be bothered right now. Back in the day, you could seamlessly infer their willingness to chat simply by noting whether they were logged in or not. Today, you can’t really know without asking.
That has created a kind of silent pressure against having longer conversations on Facebook Messenger. I’m often reluctant to start a big conversation with someone on the platform, because I don’t know if they’re ready for it right now. Even when someone contacts me, I find myself trying to close out conversations quickly, even positive ones. I’m inherently assuming that they probably just intended to send me a quick message, and that they’ve got other things to do. The platform provides no explicit social signal that they’re happy to have a proper conversation. Instead, it’s almost implied that they might be messaging me while doing something else more important, because hey, Messenger’s on all the time. Nobody sits down to chat on Facebook Messenger these days.
It’s also ruining the peace. If you’ve got Messenger installed, notifications pop up incessantly, disrupting focus and productivity. Conversations that might have once been deep and meaningful are now often fragmented and shallow because half the time, someone’s starting them when you’re in the middle of something else. If you weren’t “logged on” or “available”, they’d wait until you were ready for a proper chat. But they can’t know that on Facebook Messenger, so they just have to send a message and hope.
In a more romantic sense, Facebook Messenger has also killed some of the magic. The ease of starting a conversation at any moment diminishes the anticipation that once accompanied online interactions. Plenty of older Internet users (myself included) will remember the excitement when a new friend or crush popped up online. You could freely leap into a conversation because just by logging on, they were saying “hey, wanna talk?” It was the equivalent social signal of seeing them walk into your local pub and waving hello. They’re here, and they want to socialize!
It’s true that we effectively had always-on messaging before Facebook brought it to a wider audience. You could text message your friends, and they’d get it right away. But this was fine, and in fact, it acted as a complement to online messaging. SMSs used to at least cost a little money, and it was generally time consuming to type them out on a limited phone keypad. They were fine if you needed to send a short message, and that was about it. Meanwhile, online messaging was better for longer, intentional conversations. You could still buzz people at an instant when you needed to, but SMS didn’t get in the way of proper online chats like Facebook Messenger would.
The problem is, it seems like we can’t really go back. As with so many technologies, we can try and blame the creators, but it’s not entirely fair. Messenger changed how we used online chat, but Facebook didn’t force us to do anything. Many of us naturally flocked to the platform, abandoning others like AIM and MSN in short order .We found it more convenient in the short term, even if some of us have found it less satisfying in the long term.
Online platforms tend to figure out what we respond to on a base psychological level, and game that for every last drop of interaction and attention they can. They do this to sell ads and make money, and that’s all that really matters at the end of the day. Facebook’s one of the best at it. It’s not just online chat, either. Forums went the same way, and it won’t end there.
Ultimately, for a lot of us, our days of spending hours having great conversations online are behind us. It’s hard to see what could ever get the broader population to engage again in that way. Instead, it seems that our society has moved on, for the worse or for the better. For me, that’s a shame!
In many ways, ICQ has always been a bit of a curiosity. It was one of the first major instant messenger clients of the 1990s. It saw broad uptake alongside the likes of AOL Instant Messenger and MSN Messenger. Yet, it outlasted both of them despite not being attached to an industrial juggernaut like AOL or Microsoft. After 27 years, however, it seems that the last petal will drop, with the shutdown of ICQ announced on the ICQ website for June 26, 2024.
Originally launched by an Israeli company, Mirabilis, in June of 1996, it took the Internet by storm, leading to AOL buying Mirabilis in June of 1998. Under the wing of AOL, ICQ kept growing its user base until it was sold to Digital Sky Technologies (now VK, which operates Mail.ru) in 2010. Around this time, the likes of Facebook and Google, with their own messaging solutions, came onto the scene, leaving ICQ to flounder. Ultimately, ICQ found a new home in the Russian market as a mobile messaging system until its imminent shutdown. Users are urged to move to the VK Messenger instead.
The demise of ICQ obviously led to a blast of nostalgia on sites like Hacker News, even though it has lost relevance in the West for many years. We’re sad to see this chapter end and will mourn the demise of our UINs (RIP, 61007952) along with our fellow compatriots in the usual IRC channels.
This is what happens when you depend on the grid. Going off the grid doesn’t have to look homemade, either.
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