Category: Connected Life

Online culture and the life of the connected.

Pour une « nétiquette » de l’IA générative [en]

L’IA générative, c’est ChatGPT, Claude et consorts. Ce sont des outils à qui on donne des instructions, et qui produisent en réponse du texte. Il y en a également à qui l’on donne des instructions, et qui produisent des images, du son, voir de la vidéo.

Je n’ai pas pour objectif ici d’essayer de discuter de l’éthique lié à leur utilisation ou à leur entraînement. Il s’agit d’un tout autre sujet, dont il vaut par ailleurs la peine de discuter. D’un point de vue pragmatique, je les trouve suffisamment utiles pour les utiliser régulièrement. Mais ce dont je veux parler ici c’est comment éviter de gros faux-pas en matière de communication et de relationnel.

Voici deux usages très problématiques et que l’on voit malheureusement trop fréquemment:

  1. Laisser l’IA parler à notre place, tel Christian avec Cyrano
  2. Assommer les gens de copier-coller verbeux produits par une IA, version 2025 de RTFM

L’IA-Cyrano

Voici quelques exemples du premier cas de figure:

  • quelqu’un me pose une question, je la pose à ChatGPT et je réponds à mon interlocuteur avec la réponse que m’a donnée ChatGPT, comme si c’était moi qui parlais
  • je produis des visuels avec Midjourney ou autre et je les partage sur instagram sans préciser qu’il s’agit de productions d’IA générative
  • dans une discussion où je ne sais plus trop quoi répondre ou quoi dire, je demande la réplique suivante à mon chatbot préféré et je colle sa proposition
  • je demande à Claude de m’écrire un poème sur tel ou tel sujet, pour exprimer ceci ou cela, et je partage ce poème, sans préciser que ce n’est pas moi qui l’ai écrit.

Pourquoi est-ce que ces exemples posent souci? Ils posent souci d’une part parce qu’ils rompent le contrat social tacite des échanges sur les réseaux sociaux, ou par Messenger, ou des publications sur les blogs ou sites web personnels, que la personne avec qui on interagit est celle qui écrit les mots qu’on lit, ou produit l’art qu’on admire.

Ça s’apparente en fait à une forme de plagiat, au sens où l’on s’approprie une production qui n’est pas la nôtre, mais qu’on fait passer pour la nôtre. A la différence du plagiat classique qu’on a en tête, la source du contenu d’origine (l’IA) n’est pas le·la lésé·e, mais l’interlocuteur.

C’est avec toi que j’échange, que ce soit par messagerie ou dans les commentaires, ou c’est toi que je lis, et dans cette interaction entre toi et moi il y a des enjeux relationnels. Si tout d’un coup tu passes le clavier à quelqu’un d’autre sans me dire (humain ou machine), je suis trompée sur la marchandise.

Vous me répondrez qu’utiliser ChatGPT comme assistant pour écrire un e-mail délicat est un usage légitime de cet outil – et je suis d’accord. Où est la limite, alors, et pourquoi est-ce que l’e-mail ou la lettre ça peut passer, mais pas la réponse sur Messenger ou WhatsApp?

Je pense qu’il y a deux aspects à prendre en compte.

Le premier, c’est l’implication du locuteur perçu dans les productions de l’IA. Est-que c’est une vraie “collaboration”, je retouche, je retravaille, je “m’approprie” le texte produit pour que ce soit plausible que ce soit moi (si c’est moi qui suis supposé·e l’avoir écrit) – tout comme on le ferait en demandant de l’aide rédactionnelle à un autre humain, à un assistant en chair et en os, à un écrivain public? Ou est-ce que j’ai juste donné une instruction simple et pris le résultat tel quel, sans même le relire?

Le deuxième, c’est le contexte et le type de production. Un e-mail administratif, c’est souvent plus un exercice de style qu’une réplique dans une véritable interaction. L’e-mail administratif, c’est pas grave si je ne l’ai pas écrit toute seule comme une grande, si je l’ai fait écrire à ma cousine – tant que je signe. Un poème que je partage sur mon compte Facebook, par contre, s’il n’y a pas d’auteur indiqué, c’est implicite que c’est moi. Ou une discussion Messenger, un échange dans les commentaires: c’est une forme de discussion, très clairement, dans laquelle l’attente est que notre interlocuteur est un humain. (On adore tous les services clients qui vous proposent de “chatter avec un agent” qui se présente comme un être humain mais dont on sent bien que c’est à moitié un chatbot, n’est-ce pas?)

Et la zone grise? Peut-on collaborer avec une IA?

Je pense que pour sentir ce qui va poser problème ou pas, on peut simplement se demander si le rôle de l’IA dans notre histoire était tenu par un humain, si ça passerait. J’échange des messages avec une copine et je passe mon téléphone à mon voisin pour qu’il réponde, parce qu’il fait ça mieux que moi. Oui ou non? Je demande à mon voisin d’écrire un poème ou un récit pour moi, et je le colle sur mon profil sans préciser que c’est lui qui l’a écrit? Je pense qu’on sent bien que ça ne passe pas. Par contre: j’échange des messages et je ne sais pas trop comment tourner ma réponse, et mon collègue m’aide pour trouver la bonne tournure et me conseille – ça peut passer. Mais gare aux conséquences si en faisant ce genre de chose, la personne en face “sent” qu’on s’est fait aider!

La pente glissante avec l’IA c’est que celle-ci va produire rapidement et facilement des textes à la forme séduisante, rendant grande la tentation de simplement copier-coller sans autre forme de procès.

Faut-il pour autant renoncer à se “faire aider” par l’IA pour nos productions, quelles qu’elles soient?

Pour moi, il y a zéro souci de se faire aider par ChatGPT pour rédiger quelque chose, mais la transparence est importante. “Poème généré par ChatGPT sur mes instructions”, ou “Texte écrit avec l’assistance d’une IA”, ou “illustration générée par IA”, ça évite des malentendus. On évite de rompre le « contrat social », sur les réseaux sociaux en particulier, qui dit quand quelqu’un publie quelque chose, il l’a produit directement. On voit d’ailleurs de plus en plus que les plates-formes demandent à leurs utilisateurs de préciser si le contenu qu’ils publient est fait “avec IA”.

Un exemple personnel: j’adorerais composer des chansons mais je ne sais pas faire (enfin je peux, mais c’est nul, je n’y connais pas grand chose en musique). Aujourd’hui, grâce aux IAs génératives, je pourrais enfin composer/créer une chanson. Mais si je la partage ensuite avec d’autres, ça me semblerait normal de préciser que je l’ai faite en m’aidant d’une IA, et pas toute seule, à la force de mon talent et de mes compétences musicales.

Parlant de chansons, une histoire qui me vient en tête pour exprimer ce qu’on peut ressentir en lisant un texte qu’on pense avoir été produit directement par un humain, pour réaliser ensuite que l’IA est impliquée: Milli Vanilli. Quand on voit quelqu’un chanter au micro, dans un clip ou sur scène, c’est implicite qu’il s’agit de sa voix, à moins que la mise en scène nous fasse comprendre qu’il s’agit d’un acteur ou d’une actrice. Donc dans le cas de Milli Vanilli, quand on a découvert qu’en fait non, c’était quelqu’un d’autre dans le studio, ça a très mal passe.

Si c’est joli, où est le mal?

Un mot encore concernant en particulier les images. Sur les réseaux, on partage des tas d’images qu’on n’a pas forcément produites, donc le problème n’est pas tant là. A moins que je sois connue pour mes talents de photographe, si je partage une photo absolument splendide de quelque part au bout du monde, on peut imaginer assez aisément que ce n’est pas moi qui l’ai produite. (Bon, j’avoue que pour ma part, si je partage une image qui n’est pas de moi, il m’importe de le préciser. Mais l’écrasante majorité des gens ne le font pas, donc: norme sociale.)

Souvent, quand je fais remarquer aux gens que l’image qu’ils partagent est une image générée artificiellement, on me dit “oh c’est pas grave, c’est joli quand même!”

Le problème avec ce raisonnement est le suivant: en inondant notre quotidien de productions visuelles générées qui ne s’assument pas, on véhicule des représentations déformées du monde. Les images marquent. On voit quelque chose, ça nous reste. On part du principe que c’est vrai (“seeing is believing”, “le voir pour le croire”). Et donc on avale tout rond des informations visuelles fausses sur le monde dans lequel on vit.

Et si c’est de l’art? Le problème est le même. Etre exposé systématiquement à des productions mécaniques en pensant qu’elles sont humaines, ça finit par nous faire perdre la notion de ce qu’est ou peut être une production humaine.

On connaît tous l’impact catastrophique qu’a eu la généralisation de l’utilisation de Photoshop pour retoucher les photos de célébrités, donnant à des générations de femmes et d’hommes des attentes complètement irréalistes concernant le corps des femmes (et des hommes aussi, dans un deuxième temps). Ne tombons pas dans le même piège, et ne soyons pas complices de l’effacement de la frontière entre le vrai et le faux. La guerre cognitive ce n’est pas juste la “désinformation”. Il s’agit de nous faire perdre nos repères, au point de n’être plus capables de nous orienter dans le monde et de le comprendre. On est en plein dedans, là. Il faut se battre.

L’IA-RTFM

Le deuxième cas de figure consiste à copier-coller, brut de décoffrage, l’output d’une IA générative sur un sujet donné, le plus souvent dans un contexte conversationnel (messagerie instantanée ou commentaires). Exemples:

  • dans une discussion avec un collègue, on se demande s’il vaut mieux utiliser telle approche ou telle autre pour gérer une situation au travail; ni une, ni deux, je pose la question à ChatGPT, qui me fait une réponse joliment structurée d’un écran ou deux avec des listes à puces et du gras où il faut, je copie et je balance dans la conversation, en disant: “j’ai demandé à ChatGPT”
  • dans un groupe facebook, quelqu’un pose une question – je la soumets à l’IA de mon choix, puis je laisse un commentaire en copiant-collant la réponse, qui par sa forme et son ton, ne trompe personne sur son origine (ce n’est pas le but)
  • en séance de troubleshooting technique par Messenger, un des interlocuteurs colle dix étapes d’instructions générées par ChatGPT, qui supposément (!) contiennent la solution au problème.

Ici, il n’y a pas de volonté (ou de négligence…) de faire passer pour sienne une production non humaine. Explicitement ou non, on est bien transparent sur le fait que le texte en question est produit par un LLM. Où donc est le problème?

Le problème est que ce genre de procédé (un peu comme le message vocal non sollicité/consenti – il faut d’ailleurs que j’écrive à nouveau à ce sujet) charge l’interlocuteur d’un travail que le locuteur souhaite s’épargner. Le texte ainsi copié-collé est rarement concis, n’a généralement pas été vérifié par la personne qui l’amène dans la discussion, et même pas toujours lu! Il est jeté en pâture à l’auditoire, qui devra lui-même déterminer ce qui est à prendre et ce qui est à laisser dans cette réponse générée qu’il n’a pas demandée.

Pourquoi “RTFM“? En anglais, “Read The Fucking Manual” est une réponse généralement passive-agressive à une question, genre “demande à Google”, mais moins poli. Lis le manuel et démerde-toi.

Quand une réflexion commune (une discussion) est interrompue par un déversement de réponses IA brutes, c’est un peu comme si on copiait-collait la page Wikipedia du sujet dans la discussion. C’est au mieux maladroit, au pire extrêmement malpoli et condescendant.

(Tiens, ça me fait penser aux entreprises qui collaient des communiqués de presse tout secs des des articles de blog, à la belle époque. Ou qui répondaient dans les commentaires avec la langue de bois des chargés de comm.)

C’est très différent, évidemment, si les interlocuteurs se disent “oh, demandons à ChatGPT pour voir” et se penchent ensuite sur la réponse ensemble, qu’il s’agit donc d’une stratégie commune pour traiter le sujet en cours.

Mais la plupart du temps, ce qu’on voit, c’est un interlocuteur qui s’économise l’effort de véritablement prendre part à la réflexion en l’outsourçant d’une part à l’IA, et d’autre part aux autres interlocuteurs. Bien souvent sans penser à mal, cette introduction dans l’échange d’une quantité parfois écrasante d’informations de qualité inégale (voire carrément douteuse) peut faire l’effet d’un “Gish Gallop” involontaire, bloquant la discussion par surcharge informationnelle.

C’est une chose de donner un lien vers un article pertinent – qu’on espère de bonne qualité, et idéalement lu (on a d’ailleurs naturellement tendance à le préciser quand ce n’est pas le cas, dans le contexte d’une discussion), d’aller en aparté consulter l’Oracle-IA et de revenir enrichir la discussion avec ce qu’on en a retiré, ou de changer complètement la dynamique et l’équilibre de l’échange en imposant la présence d’un interlocuteur supplémentaire (l’IA) qui parle plus qu’il n’écoute.

La version courte?

ChatGPT n’a pas le monopole de la verbosité, j’en conviens. Je vous jure que j’ai écrit les plus de 2500 mots de ce billet toute seule. Donc, pour faire court:

  • C’est OK d’utiliser l’IA comme outil-assistant pour ses propres productions, et même dans certains cas de lui déléguer une production entière, mais il convient d’être explicitement transparent, particulièrement sur les réseaux sociaux et dans les interactions personnelles, sur le fait qu’il s’agit d’une production “IA” ou “avec IA” (certains réseaux recommandent d’ailleurs un étiquetage dans ce sens).
  • Il y a des situations où l’attente d’une production “100% authentique” par le locuteur est moins forte (certains e-mails, lettres, articles); dans ce cas-là, on peut certes s’aider d’une IA comme on s’aiderait d’une autre personne douée des mots, mais attention à ce que d’une part la “collaboration” en soit suffisamment une pour que cela reste “notre” production (à l’opposition d’une “délégation”) et que le résultat puisse passer pour tel.
  • Si on se retrouve à copier-coller des productions d’IA pour nos interlocuteurs au lieu de leur parler, que ce soit pour “donner des infos” (“regarde, ChatGPT a dit ça!”) ou “parler à notre place”, attention, ça va mal finir! Personne n’aime se retrouver à “discuter avec un robot” sans son accord, et encore moins sans être prévenu.

Et au risque de répéter une fois de trop: les LLMs sont des outils puissants, utiles et intéressants (excitants même) mais ils ne sont pas “intelligents”, ils ne “savent” rien, ils ne font que générer du contenu en fonction de modèles statistiques qui les guident vers le prochain élément le plus probable (un mot par exemple). Parfois, ils produisent de belles conneries sur un ton parfaitement sérieux et assuré.

Donc, si on demande à un LLM un résumé, une synthèse, une transcription, une version “à la sauce de”, il faut traiter sa production comme celle d’un stagiaire brillant pour certaines choses mais complètement à la ramasse pour d’autres: il faut passer derrière, relire, corriger, adapter. Les IA c’est bien pour débroussailler, pour faire le premier jet, pour réfléchir ou jouer avec des idées, pour débloquer des situations qui nous résistent, mais pas pour cracher le produit final.

La version encore plus courte:

  1. transparence concernant l’implication de l’IA dans le contenu proposé
  2. vérification et adaptation du contenu généré (forme et fond)
  3. respect de l’interlocuteur en assumant soi-même le coût (cognitif, social, temps…) lié aux deux premiers points.

Rebooting The Blogosphere (Part 3: Integration) [en]

Start with part 1 (activities), then part 2 (interaction). Sorry this 3rd part took a little longer than intended to come out.

In parts 1 and 2 of this series, I covered some types of activities (reading, writing, responding, sharing) that come into play in the text-driven social web, as well as the different flavours of interaction that make up our online relations (more or less synchronous, and related to that, contribution length in those exchanges).

What this is all about is figuring out how blogging can learn from what made “The Socials” (which became the big capitalist social networks we all know) so successful, to the point that many die-hard bloggers (myself included) got sucked up in the socials and either completely abandoned their blog, or left it on life-support. I believe that understanding this can help us draft a vision for how things in the “open social web” (I’ll keep calling it that for the time being) can work, now or in the near future, to give us the best of both blogging and the socials, without requiring that we sell our souls or leave our content hostage to big corporations.

So today is part 3, which I’ve called “Integration” (initially tried “Friction”, a key part of the story), which is about bringing all of this together.

Part 1 already kicks off this idea: what the socials do really well is remove friction, in particular by bringing in the same interface writing/posting, commenting, reading. They do it really well, but inside their walled garden. If we try and start with blogging as the centre, what would it look like? Let’s try.

Start with reading

First of all: reading and following. RSS works, and we still have RSS readers despite Google almost making the ecosystem go extinct when it killed Google Reader. What we need is two things:

  1. make it super easy to subscribe to a blog, wherever I stumble upon it – as easy as following somebody on the socials – and make it visible
  2. from my “reading interface” (ie, the RSS reader), make it super easy to comment, share, react or link to a publication and start writing something new

Frictionless subscribe is well on the way, as far as I can see: I recently installed NetNewsWire, and since then, I can “share” any site I have open in my browser to the app (on my computer or my phone) and it will look for the feed and add it to my subscription list. The desktop and phone apps sync through iCloud. That works for me. It’s easy enough. I see a blog I like, I click twice and confirm, we’re good.

FeedLand makes it super easy to subscribe inside its own ecosystem (just tick a checkbox next to a feed you see in somebody else’s subscriptions), and has a bookmarklet, but it’s not as seamless. For example, after using the bookmarklet, I’m not “back on the page I was reading”, I’m inside FeedLand. I’m sure this kind of thing can be fixed. This is just to illustrate the kind of thing we need: some integrated way, ideally through the “share” menu (assuming it also exists in non-mac environments?), to “stupid-subscribe” to an RSS feed.

What FeedLand does that is great is make the subscriptions public, just like the people I’m following or connected to on the socials are visible to others. I can even embed them in my blog to use as a blogroll.

So, let’s say the subscription problem is pretty much solved, or nearly so. The second one is much, much trickier, and I think it’s the key to everything. (At least, one of the keys.)

In my “reading interface”, be it NetNewsWire or my FeedLand river (the “newsfeed”), I’m seeing the blog posts I’ve subscribed to. Let’s assume for now that how they are displayed is a question of user/tool preference and something we know how to do. For example, do I want to see the posts “mailbox-style” (with headers that I click on to display the post), or “newsfeed-style” (like a facebook newsfeed, with more or less long excerpts)?

Add reacting

Let’s concentrate on the next step: reacting, commenting, sharing. Can I do that easily? The screenshots above show that there is some intention in the right direction, but not enough. The desktop app gives me a share icon. FeedLand allows me to reshare inside FeedLand. I can star/like, but it remains local to the “reader software”.

This is where we need more. When I read a post I’m subscribed to, it should be trivial to:

  • “like” it, if the tool producing the post supports it
  • “comment” upon it, if the tool producing the post supports it
  • “share” to a tool of my choice, be it the socials, a bookmarking service, or my blog – with or without extra content on my part (I could write a whole blog post with a reference to the link in it, or I could just post the naked link to Bluesky if I wanted to)

While we are at it, I should also be able to see if there are comments visible to me, as well as likes/shares.

All this should be possible without leaving the reading interface.

Of course, this requires a slight mindset change for us bloggers: it shouldn’t matter so much if people read our post on our website or through the feed. In that respect, the feed should contain a complete version of the blog post: untruncated, with links and media. (I don’t know why I keep stumbling upon blog feeds with the links stripped out, by the way, it’s super annoying!)

So, I write a blog post with my blogging software of choice. This blog post can be liked, commented upon, or linked to (shared). I can choose whether likes and comments are active or not. This blog post is published to my blog, and in the RSS feed. In some cases, it also goes out by e-mail (not to be forgotten). Whether people read the blog post on the blog, in the feed reader, or in their e-mail, they can easily “interact” with it, where they are (less true with e-mail, so let’s leave it aside, but not forget it’s there). As the post author, I can of course choose to moderate comments before publication, so they are displayed with the blog post only if I choose to.

Maybe the feed reading software should also be capable of displaying existing comments if requested, to give context to the person wanting to comment. Or we could consider that this is where the integration ends, and where a visit to the blog post itself is in order. To be discussed, in my opinion.

There is really something about having to leave the reading space to interact with something you’re reading that is extremely problematic. Super users who juggle tabs and apps all day might not think it matters, but normal people who can’t tell their browser from the internet or a search engine will be lost. We need spaces where we can read-like-answer-share without being teleported to some strange new place without having wanted it.

Some practical considerations: let’s say we start implementing this. The technical details are beyond me, but I understand enough to know that not all blogs (or subscribable publications) will be “compatible” with the system from the get-go. No problem: grey out those interaction buttons that won’t work in the reader, and leave the link allowing the user to head out to the blog proper to comment or like. Sharing should always be possible, as each post has a permalink (at least we have that now).

Write where you read

This was for starters. Now for the first big idea: integration with the blogging software.

In other words: maybe all this “subscribing to things” should happen in the blogging tool – or the RSS reader needs to become a blogging client. Take your pick.

Here’s why. As I mentioned before, in the old, old days of blogging, blogs did not have comments. People linked to each other when they had something to respond. Some blogs, still today, do not have comments. And that is fine, it’s a personal choice. For me, the soul of the blogosphere is people reading each other and linking to each other. And we need tools that encourage that.

I think this is also something that can help fight against the “loneliness” some of us feel around blogging, compared to the busy experience of taking part in the socials. Think about this: on the socials, you’re writing your tweet, facebook post, toot, update or whatever on a page (whether on the web interface or in an app) that is filled with stuff your contacts have published. You are producing content that is going to go on and be part of this stream of updates. It feels like part of the newsfeed already. Even though everybody has a different newsfeed, it doesn’t feel like sending something out into the void. It feels like contributing to a collective space. And this is what blogging should feel like.

So my reading tool should allow for three things (at least), in that respect:

  1. create a blog post (mention or response) based on the one I’m reading, as already mentioned previously; bonus points if it makes it easy to quote part or parts of the post (think how easy forum software makes this)
  2. write a blog post from scratch, just like we normally do today in our blog admin interfaces (think “facebook post” here rather than “tumblr” for the vibe: a space a the top of your reading list that is there waiting for you to write a post, not nagging but inviting and tempting…)
  3. convert a comment you are writing on somebody else’s blog post into a blog post of your own, with a link to the original post – I’m pretty certain I’m not alone in regularly thinking “I just have a sentence or two to say” and lifting my nose up after having written 5 paragraphs; happens on the socials too, particularly facebook, as it doesn’t have any character limit (this is a nice way to make blog interlinking easier)

WordPress Reader is on the right track, although it feels a bit like a rough draft (I particularly don’t like the web interface – too much empty space and not enough content). It shows the newsfeed of the blogs I’ve subscribed to, and an inviting box at the top to “write a quick post”. How the editor expands and what features it offers in this context leaves room for improvement, but the idea is there. It’s also missing easy-peasy subscription outside the wordpress.com platform, as far as I can see, but let’s note that it allows the user to switch between mailbox and newsfeed views, has a share button (Facebook and X), a repost button (which unfortunately opens the editor in another window, but in a nice move presents the reposted blog post in card format – why not?), a like button (internal to WordPress), and in-reader commenting.

Right. So far we have:

  • a better “reader” experience, including frictionless subscription
  • a more integrated way of reacting to what we’re reading
  • reading and writing brought together in once place.

Bring in the socials

What is still missing (the second big idea) is how to tie this in with the socials. As I argued in part 2, interaction and conversation come in varying forms. Socials do not make blogging redundant, and neither does embracing blogging again make the socials redundant. Just as we still have a use for e-mail in the era of instant messaging, or phone calls in the era of voice messages.

We touched upon this issue earlier when mentioning that any post being read should be shareable to whatever platform we want. That’s pretty trivial and already somewhat possible (we have permalinks, remember, and on our phones at least, sharing to socials is always just a touch away). But that is not sufficient.

I see three key aspects in integrating the socials with the blogging experience I’ve been describing:

  1. Tying “comments/shares on the socials” to the relevant post (this is the neverending Trackback/Pingback/Backtype/Webmention story)
  2. Posting blog content to the socials (POSSE) or, more interestingly from my point of view, backfeeding from the socials to the blog (tools like Bridgy and TootPress are also in this space)
  3. Allowing the blogging/reading tool to function as a client for the socials.

The first one is an old story, but what it means is that what people are saying on the socials about what I wrote on my blog is part of the conversation related to what I wrote, and it might be desirable to have a way to point the readers of the blog post to it. It’s the argument for having comments on the blog. Or a list of Webmentions (if I’ve understood correctly that they are the Trackbacks of today). Or not. The conversation is there, and the blogger should have the ability to make it visible from the core content. Beneath a blog post, you could have comments (some made from inside an integrated tool for reading/reacting/writing, some made directly on the site), links to other blog posts which mention it, and links (or quotes? TBD) to public content on the socials about it. As I understand it, Bridgy does this.

The second one is three-pronged: I might want to share my blog posts on the socials when I publish, publish to the socials using my blog (with a separate post-type or category for example), or I might want to repost/archive on my blog whatever I have shared on the socials. The first two are outwards-going. The third is inward-coming, but instead of being centred on a piece of content (the blog post) like described above, and therefore on the content of what was published on the socials, it is centred on the person (the blogger), and therefore a specific account (or accounts).

I see two reasons for wanting to do this: first, for safekeeping (create an archive or mirror of whatever you post on Bluesky on your blog, for example) or for resharing to another audience, maybe in a slightly different form, whatever one posted elsewhere. I want to elaborate on the second case, which is in my opinion more interesting (obviously, because it’s a need I have).

I’ve already mentioned before that participating on the socials is very frictionless. The barrier is low. We are in conversation mode. It is “speaking” more than it is “writing”. Therefore, my hypothesis is that however much we love our blogs and everything, it’s still always going to be easier to quickly throw out a link on the socials, or jot down a thought, share a photo, respond to somebody and find ourselves coming up with an idea. To me, there is a lot of raw material there which might be worth preserving. Sure, if you’re having a back-and-forth about getting ready to go to the gym, maybe not, but if you’re sharing links or bite-sized thoughts or commentary on the world or whatever, that’s different.

It would make sense to be able to gather that daily production from the various socials one is active on, and organise it in what would be the “socials” equivalent of a post on a link blog. How exactly will be the topic of another post, because I think it requires going into lots of little details. But suffice to say, for now, that the idea would be to give the blogger an option to repatriate whatever has leaked from the bloggers brain to the socials in a form that could be either publishable as-is, or edited before publishing, or why not, broken down into more than one post if needed. “Today on the socials”, or something like that.

So, at this point we want to be able to create a two-way path between the blog and the socials, to push posts to the socials, bring back commentary or mentions to the blog posts, and the blogger’s updates to the socials.

We can go a small step further and integrate into our reader/blogging tool a client for the socials. We’re already reading RSS feeds, why not also read the social newsfeeds?

Openvibe is a client that combines different socials and allows the user to also subscribe to RSS feeds within the same interface. This would be the corollary. And if we’re reading, and we have the ability to write blog posts from there in addition to comments, why not also be able to publish to the socials? I like the way Openvibe manages cross-posting: you can choose where you want to cross-post each time; when you mention somebody, a little dialog open so that you can mention them on the different socials you’re posting to – or just enter text if they aren’t everywhere.

I could start composing something to share to the socials, and partway through decide it should be a blog post: I’d select the blog as a destination (this would be somewhat similar to converting a comment I’ve started writing to a blog post, as described earlier), the interface would adapt, the cross-posting to the socials would become a “blog post share” in the background. This allows me to dynamically adapt where I’m going to post what I’m writing, as I’m writing it.

Having a reading interface with RSS feeds and the social newsfeeds together (with filters, obviously) replicates what actually happens on the socials when people share their blog posts (or even have an account for their blog) on the socials. This is more elegant, because it’s the actual subscription to the actual blog content, and doesn’t depend on the blogger making their content available through the socials.

Loose ends: comments elsewhere, web interface, modular

At this point we’ve got something that is really nicely integrated, but one thing is missing: comments made on other blogs. I dwelled on this a bit in part 1: this is one of the issues that coComment or Disqus tried to solve.

If the comment is made through the blogging-reading tool, it’s quite easy to capture (content and permalink, even title to the blog post it’s on). The only question would be how to display these comments (if desired, of course). In the sidebar (“my comments elsewhere”)? Collected in round-up posts like what comes from the socials (“my comments on other blogs this week”)? People will want different things, but it should be part of the package to make this possible.

What about comments made directly on other blogs? In an ideal world, the receiving blog would “notify” (webmention?) the commenter’s blog of the comment just made. But there would also have to be a way for the commenter to “secure” their comment, in case the blog in question doesn’t have the notification feature. I guess there are ways to do that with bookmarklets, browser extensions, or the like. Or why not by “sharing” the page one commented upon to the blogging-reading tool, with a way to indicate “there’s a comment of mine on this page”?

Throughout this post I’ve spoken about this integrated “tool” (or maybe app at times). As I see it, it should definitely have a web interface, like my WordPress blog has. Or Discourse. And be something that can be self-hosted, or managed. Apps are nice, but I think it’s clear today that tools or services should be available both through a “website” and an app.

It may seem like I’m describing “one more app/tool to rule them all”, but in my mind it’s not like that. I’m describing a set of principles. Just like we have various tools which allow blogging or reading RSS today, or various clients for Mastodon, this should not be a lock-in for a particular tool. Those with better understanding than me of ActivityPub, RSS, APIs and the like are most welcome to elaborate on how various protocols or frameworks could work together or be extended to make this kind of thing possible.

As I see it, with an agreement of how these different general features function, we could even go towards more modular tools, where I could use a WordPress base for blogging, which would be compatible with something derived from Openvibe for the socials integration, and have the choice between a future iteration of FeedLand or WordPress Reader or NetNewsWire for the reading part – and they would all integrate seamlessly in such a manner that I will not feel like I am using multiple tools, but one. There could even be add-ons/plugins (I heard this idea in this OTM interview of Jay Graber) to manage how you filter your RSS+socials timeline (algorithm? no algorithm? labelling?), how you mashup your socials of the day into pretty blogs posts – or not, etc.

I have the intuitive hope that something approaching my present pipe dream can be built around WordPress – particularly after hearing Dave Winer invite us to think differently about WordPress. I’m curious to see if what he’s cooking us with WordLand brings us in the kind of direction I’m thinking about. And of course, if you know of anything that makes what I’m talking about here reality, comment away!

PS Dave: haven’t yet listened to the podcasts (Exploring WordPress, Textcasting, and Open Web Standards and Dave Winer on Decentralisation, WordPress and Open Publishing), but I will. It was either listen or write, I chose write!

PPS everyone: I didn’t proofread and I feel my writing is more clunky than usual today, sorry – brain still recovering. Point out the typos and broken sentences and I’ll go and fix them!

PPPS: might do a part 4 on privacy, and need to cover non-text content better, in addition to going into more detail regarding “Today on the socials” posts, so chances are there will be more in this series, at some point…

Who Will See My Comment? [en]

Another interesting observation following my return to Facebook: when somebody responds to one of my posts there, it definitely feels like the audience for this response is primarily the people I am connected to. What I mean by that is that I expect that my contacts have a chance of seeing that response, because responses are closely tied to the original content (“comments and post“ format).

On Bluesky or Mastodon (or Twitter for that matter, and it could partly explain why I drifted away at some point and started spending more time on Facebook), when somebody responds to one of my updates, I do not expect the people connected to me to see it. And indeed, if they are not following the person who responded, if they do not specifically open up my update to see if there are responses or if it is part of the thread, they will not see it. On those platforms, responses are much more “their own thing” than on Facebook or on a blog.

On Facebook, there is an immediate and visible feeling of micro-community around a publication, when people start commenting. It feels like we’ve just stepped into a break-out room. Participants get notifications, and come back to see responses. If the conversation becomes lively, it is made visible to more people. People will end up connecting to each other after having “met” repeatedly in a common friend’s facebook comments.

Bluesky, Mastodon and Twitter (yeah, and Threads) feel more fragmented. It’s more difficult to follow for lots of people. They are faced with bits and pieces of conversations flying about, and access to the context of those is not frictionless. Part of this, I think, has to do with how publication audience is managed (I’ll definitely have to do a “part 4” about this in my Rebooting the Blogosphere series). And another, of course, is the primacy of non-reciprocal connections on those platforms.

What Facebook also does that blogs do not at this stage, is that Facebook makes my comments on other people’s publications candidates for appearing in the news feeds of people who are connected to me. Every now and again, something of the form “Friend has commented on Stranger’s post” will show up. The equivalent in the blogging world would be having a “reading tool” (now RSS readers, but we need to go beyond that, that’s the Rebooting the Blogosphere part 3 post that I’m actively not writing these days) which will not only show me the blog posts that the people I’m following have written, but also that they have commented here or there, on another blog. This tightens the connection between people and contributes to discovery – ie, finding new people or publications to follow.

In summary: there is something fundamentally different in how Facebook, the other socials, and blogs make visible to a person’s network the comments/responses they have made elsewhere. And the “feeling of conversation/community” of multi-person exchanges also varies from one platform to another.

Facebook Account Back After 21 Days [en]

My Facebook account is back, with as little explanation as when it was taken down. I had finished the dishes after lunch and was preparing to get to work writing part three of my thoughts on rebooting the blogosphere, when I saw a message from a friend telling me that I was back on Facebook.

I checked, and indeed I was. In my emails, I found this explanation, as enlightening as the one that was given upon my suspension. I am sure that you, as I, will appreciate the heartfelt apologies.

Understandably, I am relieved. I have no idea if my account simply went through the standard appeal and review process, albeit in three weeks rather than one day as announced, or if my plight reached the right eyes or ears thanks to my extended network. I will probably never know. In any case, I really would like to thank everybody who helped spread the word about my situation. And if somebody somewhere intervened, I am extremely grateful.

As you can imagine, all is not clean and pink and shiny. The top thing on my list now is to back up my content. Unfortunately, that option is not available to me, as of now. Hopefully this is just a systems lag and I will be able to get things rolling tomorrow.

Upon logging in, the first thing I noticed was that all of my “disappeared“ Pages were not there. The Pages for my cats, past and present, for my diabetic cat community: not there. Thankfully, I quickly discovered that I could reactivate them. It was a bit tedious, but it functioned. I then immediately added a trusted friend as administrator with full powers to each of my Pages. Also little tedious, but worked.

Cats with Facebook Pages? Indeed. The current ones are Oscar and Juju. They mainly speak French, though. But photos (particularly cat photos) know no language barriers.

That being done, I figured I would check my account status. Well, no big surprise, it is still “at risk“ — still orange. The nine or so “false positive spams“ are still there on my Facebook criminal record. So, I’m assuming I am just another fast positive way from seeing my account suspended again. You are not going to see me posting much.

The information about my “crimes” is naturally as enlightening as before, with no way to appeal what are obviously false positives.

Feeling slightly bullied into doing it, I bit the bullet and signed up for Meta Verified for my Facebook account, having already done it for my Instagram account just after the suspension. Trying to contact a human being through there was one of my possible avenues of action to try and get my Facebook account properly reviewed.

Anyway. If I still cannot download my content tomorrow, I will try out their enhanced support. And I will also see if there is anything this “enhanced support“ can do about those nasty stains on my Good Facebook Citizen record.

But above all, here is what’s important: what happened here is wrong. A company should not hold such arbitrary power of life or death over such a large part of our digital existences.

I’m lucky my account is back up. I’m lucky I didn’t lose any business during the three weeks it was down. I’m lucky that I didn’t rely on Facebook or Messenger at the time for anything critical, and that I had good teams in place for managing my active facebook groups. I’m lucky that Facebook is not the only store for my photos, and that I had downloaded my Live Videos previously. But even with that, the way I was suddenly and unexpectedly disappeared from the platform was traumatising. I was in shock. I lost sleep and for a significant number of days, regressed in the recovery from my accident. I spent countless hours and days doing whatever I could in the hope I might get my account back.

This should not happen. Even if we are not paying customers, even if we are “the product”, all the cash that is rolling into the company is thanks to us. We get something in return, sure – and therefore we willingly allow Meta and others to exploit our data. But we are not just data. We are living, breathing, feeling humain beings behind our screens. And we deserve to be treated as such.

Posts regarding this saga:

Let’s make things better and reboot the blogosphere:

Blogging On My Phone (Facebook Suspension Day 17) [en]

The post « Blogs don’t have to be so lonely » (via Dave) has had me thinking, in between two feedings for my poor old Oscar. Manuel’s blog doesn’t have comments. Just like this one in its early days, and pretty much all blogs at the time.

We linked to each other.

Comments changed that: it became less about linking to others, more about leaving your link on other people’s blogs.

Less invitations for your neighbours to join you, more peeing on the bushes in their garden.

Comments aren’t all bad of course. It’s great to have a space for discussion that is strongly connected to the post that sparked it. But they can be subverted and it can go overboard.

When it comes all about the comments, we end up with Facebook, Twitter (RIP), Bluesky, Mastodon, Threads and the like.

This is a shortcut and it’s debatable. What I’m getting at is the respective importances of « writing » versus « discussing » on various platforms/tools. Just like with martial arts (bear with me), the distance between the protagonists determines the style.

How immediate and interactional are our online spaces? And how do those characteristics make us more or less likely to default to using a given medium or platform, or drift away?

One thing that is very clear to me is that I use « the socials » on my phone a lot, but I never blog from my phone. I’m doing it now, to try to understand this better — but that really never happens. I’ll write comments on my phone, I’ll write blogpost-length entries on LinkedIn or Facebook (well, before I was disappeared) that should have been blog posts, but when I think of something to write here, I want my keyboard and the digital environment my computer provides.

Because it’s more « I have something to write » and less « oh, I have something to tell you or share with you ».

On the socials, it’s a quick passing something in my mind that I want to catch and make available to whoever is around right now. On my blog, it’s something that I feel deserves a longer shelf-life. But I think that distinction in my gut is a bit of a fallacy: otherwise I wouldn’t be so broken up about losing 18 years of « stuff » on Facebook.

What I’ve wanted for a long time is the easiness and immediacy of « social sharing » with a way to « transform » some or all of it into blog posts, or blog post material. Something parallel to what I’ve done with my voice memos (I need to blog about this) which allows me to capture snippets of passing thoughts throughout the day in a frictionless manner, and then nearly automatically merge all those tiny audio files into one, that gets transcribed and digested.

I would like Openvibe (or whatever client I happen to be using, ideally seamlessly synced between phone and desktop, like the « Facebook experience » was) to allow me to mark posts (by me or others) as « for the blog » in some way, and also « switch to blogging » if I realise mid-writing that « this should be a post (too) ».

So, how was writing this on my phone? Not that bad. Is it just a question of habit? The small size of the screen, which means I do not have a « zoomed out » view of what I’ve written, bothers me. Adding links is OK (now I’ve realised I can just « paste » the link on selected text) but it seems to sometimes shift the link one character to the right (super annoying). Writing… well, it’s writing in a phone. My thumbs complain. It’s slower. I need to correct more mistakes than when I’m typing.

So, maybe it’s not so much that Openvibe or whatever social client should accommodate my blog, but that my blogging client should allow me to follow my socials and post to them. And why not, subscribe to my RSS feeds. (Now I’m wondering if I’m going to look very silly because it already does this 😅.)

Time to continue feeding the cat!

Facebook Suspension: Day 11 [en]

It’s been 11 days since my Facebook account was suspended. Where are things at?

The appeal, predictably, didn’t yield any results. No response, no e-mail, no change, nothing. I have no other “official” appeal routes, as I cannot access the platform at all. So I wrote up my appeal in a blog post.

What you can do to help: share my story or my appeal, give visibility to my situation – including on Facebook where I have become inexistant. If you know people who might know people, please ask. It seems pretty clear that unless a case manages to gather the attention of the right people (including, it seems, through the media), not much will happen. Going public helps. A huge thanks to those of you who have already shared my posts or updates, reached out to your networks, etc. Facebook is where I had the most reach, and without it, I am struggling to raise awareness on my situation. The reach I have in normal times is, of course, abnormal. A working system should not depend on people having a platform or connections to work right and be fair.

False Positives

My old friend Kevin Marks pointed me to this extremely interesting article: Cost of False Positives (Kellan Elliott-McCrea). Two take-aways:

  • with scale, false positives in identifying abuse of a social site create a huge problem to deal with, even when the detection methods are “very good”; Kellan runs through some numbers, and it’s way beyond what I could have imagined (and the article was written nearly 15 years ago)
  • early adopters (like me!) are outliers in the data and are at higher risk of “looking funny” to abuse detection algorithms; indeed, we are not “normal users”; I share huge quantities of links; my account goes back nearly two decades so there are lots of publications to sift through and which might be flagged; I am at times extremely active in (human) ways which could seem “unhuman”: amount and type of content, speed, etc.

Automation

Just now, I was reading this article from Ars Technica: Social Media Probably Can’t Be Fixed. (It’s an open tab in my browser, not too sure how it go there.) It feels like it.

Even at my social “scale”, when I think about the main community I run (diabetic cats, 7k members), we run into scale issues where it becomes more and more difficult to treat everybody fairly and in a human way. And when I think of how to improve things from a management perspective (because volunteer ressources are limited, always will be) I find myself thinking in terms of automation, how to use AI to support the team doing content moderation or to improve the “member journey” in the community. Less personal, less human.

With automation, you get scale (and with scale you end up needing automation), but with that, you lose personal connection and at some point it comes crumbling down.

Life Without Facebook

How have I been coping with being un-facebooked? Well, beyond the shock and the hurt and the grief and the anger and the injustice of it all, and setting aside the extra “admin work” this is adding to my plate, being forced off Facebook has done two things for me:

  • regroup on my blog and other platforms, and in the process, get to experience different “connection spaces” than the main one I had on Facebook
  • imagine a life without/after Facebook: less connection maybe, a slower pace – I am getting to measure how “caught up” I get in the platform and how good it is at keeping me there.

Before we go all “silver linings”: this sucks. I didn’t need this. It has been extremely distressing and has had a negative impact on my health, in particular my recovery from post-concussion syndrome after my accident. I feel more disconnected and isolated, because I have lost my access to the people I was in touch with on a daily basis (some of them “online-only” friends, many of them not). Life on Facebook continues without me. I’m not being flooded with mails and messages of people asking me what’s going on or how I’m doing. It’s mainly silence.

Losing my content is also dreadful. I’ve spent some time this week-end going through my various archives from various platforms and tools over the years, organising them somewhat, checking they actually work, and exporting recent archives of the places I’m still at. My last proper facebook export is nearly 10 years old. I mentioned before, I think, that I tried to do an export in June, but gave up because it required me to manually download 52 files weighing 2Gb each, at a snail’s pace, and which made my network drop. The “export to Google Drive” didn’t work. So, my stuff on Facebook is a 104Gb export. Outliers in the data, anybody?

Why I’m Fighting

I made the choice to try and fight this, instead of sitting back and saying “oh well, that’s that”. I made the choice to fight because it is meaningful to me in different ways:

  • I care about my content locked up in the platform and would like to get it back.
  • I run a busy support group there, thankfully with a wonderful team who is holding the fort, despite being worn out by six months of my post-accident absence and a couple more years of me struggling to make time for the community amidst the other stuff going on in my life; I also have two decades worth of connections on the platform, which I do not want to just “cut off” like that – be it regarding the community or my network, real relationships are at stake, and if the future is away from Facebook, I want to be able to manage the transition and not be thrown off the plane in mid-air.
  • I am not alone: this is not just about me, but about a systemic, structural issue that has real impact on thousands of people’s lives; I’m lucky I don’t have a business that depends on my facebook presence anymore, but it could have been the case. Others aren’t that lucky. We are innocent casualties in the war against the bad actors of online social spaces, and deserve some kind of justice.
  • Meta, as a company, and Facebook, as a platform, want to play an important role in shaping our world. They want to be an indispensable tool for businesses, and also for normal people, without which they have no value for businesses. To me, it is unethical to have such ambition regarding their role in society and not provide even a semblance of support to those who make it possible – even if, as the saying goes, they “are the product”, because they do not pay. In my small modest way, taking a stand against enshittification.

This means that for the last 11 days, in addition to dealing with the impact of this suspension, I have been looking up articles, searching for solutions, writing blog posts, posting on a bunch of social media platforms I am normally dormant on, DMing friends and vague contacts, drawing up an action plan in my head, and putting my poor injured brain through the ringer to try to figure out what to do, where to start, what to prioritise, who to contact or speak to, in hopes of getting this suspension reversed. All that, knowing that chances are extremely slim and that it is probably useless.

Reconnecting Elsewhere

So, now that you’ve read all that, and without losing sight of it, what has been interesting? Clearly, reconnecting with my blog and feeling motivated to invest in ways of connecting to others and building community where I am not ceding control of everything to the Borg. (No, not that Borg – the new one.) That was already underway, but it has now been prioritised.

It has also made me aware of how facebook encourages a certain type of writing/publication and a certain type of discussion. Not so much in terms of content, but in terms of form. And there is value in doing it differently. I actually wrote some e-mails to people, since my suspension. I shared shorter snippets of stuff (passing thoughts, comments on links I found, ideas, daily anecdotes) because on LinkedIn, Bluesky, Twitter and Mastodon, for example, there are character limits. On my blog there are none, so I have had a chance to ramble along more. I have rediscovered people who left the Facebook boat already and with whom I had lost touch, because I poured almost all my sharing and connecting energy into Facebook.

I also published a couple of videos on Youtube, and plan to do more.

Shared Content

One thing I have become acutely aware of is that even when platforms allow you to export your content, one’s content in a social space is not just one’s publications. It is also comments, participation in the shared content that is a conversation, or a community. All the comments I ever made on Facebook have gone with my suspension. There are conversation threads with holes in them now. All the comments and conversations that took place because I published something, or because I commented and somebody answered – gone. Once people interact with your content, build upon it, it is not 100% yours anymore.

This has been an ongoing preoccupation of mine in shared social spaces. I remember, many many years ago, when blogs were young, a blogger I was actively following deleted their blog one day. And with it, all the comments I had taken the trouble to leave on their posts. “Leaving a comment” does not adequately reflect it, actually. It makes it feel like a small gesture done for the benefit of the other, but it’s not that. A comment can have as much value as a blog post. What makes it a comment is that it is a response, not that it is small or insignificant. It can be something valuable given to the community, and it should not be the right of another person to unilaterally destroy it.

I do not remember who the blogger was. It happened more than once.

Some years back, a few of my contacts on Facebook started a kind of automatic removal of their posts after a certain amount of time had gone by, taking my shares and comments with them. I stopped sharing and commenting on those posts.

I know, the lesson is: if you don’t want something you write to disappear, write it on your blog. But context matters.

Content and Community

This “it’s my content, I’m allowed to delete it” mindset is also an issue in Facebook groups. In the diabetic cat group, it thankfully didn’t happen very often, but when it did, it was infuriating. Somebody would post with an issue. People would expend time and energy in providing good answers and support. Then the person would delete their post, and all the answers with it. The whole point of a support group is that what is said to one person may also help another, who is reading. As a community, we also get to know our members and connect to them, and in that respect, their history in the group is important. Being able to refer back to that history is what allows a support community to function at a certain scale. Facebook does not allow group admins to prevent members from deleting posts and comments – something the platform I’m looking at for the future, Discourse, allows. It’s not all black and white of course, if you post something stupid and want to remove it an instant later, you can. But you can’t take down whole comment threads because you don’t like your post anymore. Participating in a community comes with a certain amount of responsibility towards other members of that community.

On the web side: Cool URIs don’t change. And also: cool content doesn’t disappear.

So, back to Facebook, what has been lost – for me, but also for others – is not just my posts and the pages of my cats, but it’s also a shared history, through discussions in comment threads and reposts on other people’s walls.

If we were connected on Facebook, and you would like to stay in touch, think about subscribing to this blog, and find me on the socials of your choice: Bluesky, Mastodon, Threads or LinkedIn. I’m still on the bird site but not very active there. I want to do more videos on Youtube, so it might be a good move to subscribe to my channel. I haven’t managed to recover my Tiktok account, so that’s that for the time being. I also have Instagram and Flickr (dormant, maybe it needs waking up), and I’ve created a little WhatsApp community – mainly francophone – where you can get announcements when I publish something here and a little chat-space with others and me, a kind of weird version of my Facebook wall off Facebook (ask me to join).

Of course, I always like it when people leave comments. I promise not to delete my blog.

Appeal Regarding the Suspension of my Facebook Account @stephtara [en]

Given the official appeal process for the suspension of my account did not provide me with the opportunity to argue my case, I am doing it here.

I believe that my account, like others, has been wrongfully suspended in the context of the “Facebook ban wave” that has been going on these last weeks and months. I would like my appeal to be reviewed by a human being.

An authentic personal Facebook account

My account has been active since early 2007 and has been used to post authentic content and share photos, links and insights with my large network.

Over the years, I have also created and managed various support communities using Facebook groups (most notably and recently, for diabetic cats) as well as pages – for my cats, or my business and projects when I was self-employed. I actually helped many small or medium businesses here in Switzerland get set foot on facebook back in the early days and have been a strong advocate for what the platform has to offer both people and organisations.

I have done my best to use the platform to connect with people, add value around me, share personal content or high-quality information, promote respectful discussion – in a nutshell, use Facebook for what I understand it was designed for. I am also known as a blogger, since the year 2000, and I bring the spirit of collaboration, “not-for-profitness” and openness of the early social web to everything I do.

With this suspension, not only have I lost access to a large part of my network and reach, but I have lost irreplaceable memories of beloved people and pets, nearly two decades of my past, and a trove of information on a wide variety of subjects that I regularly referred to, using Facebook to “bookmark” ressources and interesting ideas. My network and communities on the platform have also been impacted by the disappearance of my content.

Details of the suspension

On Friday August 22nd, early afternoon, I made a comment in a 7000-member Facebook group I have be administering for over 7 years. The comment contained a link to a Discourse test site I was trying out. I immediately received notification that my account was suspended for 180 days for infringing community standards regarding cybersecurity. I appealed, confirming my phone number and providing a video selfie in the process. I have not heard anything back from facebook despite the appeal instructions indicating that appeals are reviewed in a bit over a day. I am confident that my account has not been hacked or otherwise compromised.

Earlier in the month, I got a warning concerning the removal of about 10 of my previous posts for various community standards infringements (mostly “spam”, without possibility of appeal. Here are some examples of removed posts:

This removals were accompanied by a warning that further infringements might put my account at risk, but I had no way of indicating that these were most certainly false positives, or of knowing which of my many posts or comments in the future might be similarly flagged.

Background and impact

Over the years, I have been faced with an increasing number of these kinds of post or comment removals which clearly seem to be in error. Sometimes an appeal is possible, sometimes not. Removals are regularly reversed. As the admin of a large and active support group, we are regularly faced with “waves” of posts misidentified as spam, moderators being blocked from mentioning members in the group, or messages being removed from community discussion channels while we try to help our members.

I assumed, knowing my use of Facebook is in line with community standards, that the post removals of early August would be reversed. I understand that algorithmic adjustments can have unforeseen consequences and that some hiccups can be expected.

As the administrator of a large and very active support group, and as a “hyperactive link-sharer”, I also understand that some of my behaviours on the platform could conceivably trigger red flags. For example, as a group administrator of a very active and engaged support group, I have often been in the situation of contacting people “I do not know” (group members) by Messenger. I also post messages that have similar content and mention groups of members, because we work very hard on keeping our members engaged and active – something that is appreciated and appropriate in the context of our group.

The main group I administer has been supporting French-speaking owners of diabetic cats since 2018 and is recognised for its high quality in terms of content, moderation, support and community. Veterinarians send their clients to us – and in parallel, I run a separate group for professionals counting 3000 members. This thriving community is now at risk, having lost not only its founder, but also the valuable content I have posted to it over the years.

I sincerely hope that this appeal may reach somebody in a position to give my account a fair evaluation regarding my respect of community standards. Also, given the many people around the world who find themselves in situations similar to mine, I hope that Meta, as a company, will commit to improving the way content and accounts are flagged, and to providing an efficient path to appeal for those of us who find ourselves unjustly removed from the platform.

Thank you for your attention.

I can be reached on Bluesky, Mastodon, Threads or LinkedIn. Or here in the comments, of course.

Les commentaires qui se transforment en article [en]

Je me souviens très bien d’avoir eu conscience, quand Twitter et Facebook ont commencé à prendre de plus en plus de place dans la vie en ligne des gens et dans la mienne, de l’impact que ça a eu sur les blogs, et surtout les commentaires. Notre énergie rédactionnelle et interactionnelle s’est trouvée happée par les plateformes, et nos blogs en ont fait les frais.

Laissant de côté la traumatisme de la suspension de mon compte facebook et de la perte probable de près de deux décennies de données, c’est clair que cette semaine sans facebook (on y est là, à l’heure près!) a donné un grand coup d’accélérateur à un mouvement intérieur qui prenait de l’ampleur: tenter de revenir au web ouvert et indépendant, humain et authentique, qui m’est cher depuis plus de 25 ans. Donc j’écris sur mon blog, parce qu’au moins ici je suis chez moi et c’est moi qui ai les clés et le titre de propriété, je réapparais sur d’autres plates-formes, je réfléchis à l’avenir de ma présence en ligne.

Toutes ces dernières années, je suis toujours surprise quand j’écris ici que je réalise qu’il y a des gens qui me lisent encore. Merci d’être là. Et des fois, il y a des gens qui commentent. Comme Olivier. Olivier qui a un blog, et qui comme tant d’entre nous, se dit “j’aimerais y écrire plus“. Du coup, je suis allée y faire un tour. J’ai lu quelques articles, et répondu. Laissé un commentaire. Vous savez qu’au début, il n’y avait pas de commentaires sur les blogs? Ni sur celui-ci. C’est dur à croire parce que ça fait tellement partie de notre “définition” du blog, les commentaires – mais en fait, au début, il n’y en avait pas. Quand on avait quelque chose à répondre, on faisait un lien vers le billet original, et on écrivait ce qu’on avait à dire sur notre blog. L’interaction était moins immédiate, moins publique. Mais ce qu’on écrivait restait chez nous.

La première étape, ça a été les fils de commentaires sous les articles de blog. Avec un effet collatéral: le blogueur qui vire sa publi et tous les commentaires avec. Plus ou moins de grogne. Il y a du des outils comme coComment et Disqus (qui est toujours en place, sur Blogger par exemple). Mais surtout, il y a eu la deuxième étape, les réseaux – Twitter, Facebook, mais il y en a d’autres qui ont déjà passé de vie à trépas – qui ont vu une accélération de l’interaction et des échanges, toujours plus sur la place publique, toujours plus éloignés du contenu dont on parle, et toujours moins entre nos mains. Les milliers d’échanges que j’ai eus sur Facebook au sujet de tel ou tel article, telle ou telle publication, qu’elle soit quelque part sur le web ou postée directement sur la plateforme, maintenant expédiés vers le néant par les robots en charge de la plateforme, en témoignent.

En mémoire du “bon vieux temps” du début des blogs, je vais reproduire ci-dessous ce que j’ai écrit dans les commentaires d’Olivier, avec lien vers ses articles originaux. Peut-être que ça vous donnera envie d’arrêter de scroller quelques secondes (c’est pas un jugement, je sais combien c’est conçu pour qu’on le fasse “malgré nous”) pour les lire.

Top IMDb : 2 ans plus tard

Bon, j’arrive tard à la fête, mais j’y suis! Ça fait longtemps que je ne regarde presque plus de films, après m’être fait un orgie Marvel à un moment ces dernières années. Pas parce que je n’ai pas envie, mais parce que je croule sous la pile énorme des choses à faire et des envies à poursuivre, et bloquer du temps pour me poser devant un film (même une série!) est compliqué pour moi. Pas par manque de volonté, mais disons par excès d’hyperactivité. Même depuis mon accident, alors que justement je devrais passer un peu plus de temps à glandouiller (c’est pas bien de passer la journée entière sur Netflix, mais s’envoyer un film ou une série de temps en temps, vu où j’en suis, ce serait pas mal).

Souvent, quand je me dis, ok je regarde un film, je ne sais pas lequel regarder. Parce que comme avec le reste, il y a un tel backlog de choses à voir que ça me paralyse. Je sais que j’ai raté tellement de bon films ces 15 dernières années. Comme avec la lecture, d’ailleurs, ma tendance naturelle c’est d’aller vers des genres “faciles et entertaining” pour moi: SF pour la lecture, Marvel et SF pour les films. Mais chaque fois que je lis ou regarde autre chose, ça me fait monstre plaisir. Le fameux décalage entre ce qu’on pense nous plaira, et ce qui nous plaira. Donc j’aime bien cette idée, prendre les top x et commencer par là. Je note 🙂

Grippe

Team vaccin ici aussi, depuis 2009 et la “Grippe A”! Je ne crois pas avoir eu la grippe adulte, par contre je suis une abonnée aux infections respiratoires. L’hiver 2023-2024 j’en ai enchaîné six entre début novembre et l’Ascension. J’ai quand même fini en consultation d’immunologie, rien de grave, suspicion de petite immunodéficience et terrain allergique (ça semble aller beaucoup mieux depuis que je suis sous anthistaminiques en continu, je n’ai d’ailleurs plus le nez qui coule en permanence, c’est magique!)

Ce fameux hiver, j’ai un syndrome post-viral après une des infections (qui n’était probablement pas le covid, le covid j’ai eu après, mais c’était peut-être aussi la première infection de novembre; bref). En effet, près de 3 semaines à me trainer. Je suis suffisamment souvent malade pour savoir comment ça va, chez moi, quels symptômes quel jour, comment ça évolue, combien de jours de travail je rate (car c’est systématique… tu me colles 37.1 de température je suis inutile). En gros, ça me bouffe une semaine, dix jours, puis je vais de nouveau bien, avec une toux qui traine encore et encore. 

Mais pas là. Là, au bout de dix jours, non seulement je toussais toujours, mais j’étais totalement à plat. Je me souviens être sortie me balader une vingtaine de minute dans le quartier, au pas de l’oie (instruction du médecin, faut mettre le nez dehors quand même un peu). Et je suis rentrée, je me suis posée sur le canapé, et j’ai dormi une heure. Jamais ça ne m’était arrivé, ce genre de chose. 

En bonne geek j’avais déjà quelques infos car j’avais suivi ce qu’on savait du covid long (j’y ai échappé jusqu’ici, mais c’était et ça reste ma hantise), et j’ai fouiné encore un peu, et eu confirmation: il ne faut pas se pousser, en cas de fatigue post-virale. Il faut respecter la fatigue et se donner du repos. Quand on se pousse, ça prend plus long, et c’est là que ça courte aussi un risque de se chroniciser. 

Ça va à contre-sens de mon fonctionnement, ça, de s’écouter et ne pas se pousser. Mais j’ai fait. (Et depuis mon accident j’ai encore pu bien mettre en pratique, et je continue – heureusement que j’ai eu l’entrainement de l’hiver d’avant pour apprendre les bases.) 

Et ce que j’ai trouvé incroyable, c’est que la “sortie” de cet état s’est faite extrêmement rapidement. Qu’on s’entende, l’état a duré, mais un jour, alors que je me trainouillais toujours de la même manière, j’étais en train de remonter les escaliers entre l’espace coworking et chez moi quand j’ai réalisé… que j’étais en train de retrouver ma vitesse habituelle. Et en l’espace de quelques heures, j’exagère pas, j’ai quasi retrouvé mon état normal. Ça m’a vraiment fait le même effet que lorsqu’en vélo électrique je suis par erreur en mode assistance “sport” (plus bas que d’habitude) et que je passe en “turbo” (le mode avec max d’assistance, habituel). 

Depuis, j’ai pu constater que dès que j’avais un peu de fièvre, je le sentais en fait très bien. Si monter les escaliers est un effort physique qui me coûte, c’est signe de quelque chose. Parce qu’en temps normal je monte ces escaliers rapidement, deux à deux souvent, comme une petite gazelle (même si je ne ressemble plus à une gazelle depuis longtemps).

Vous avez toujours votre blog? Manifestez-vous dans les commentaires – ou dans un billet!

Pourquoi mon compte facebook a-t-il été suspendu? [en]

Au-delà de mon petit drame personnel, je pense qu’il est important de comprendre les mécanismes sous-jacents qui décident de nos vies et “morts” numériques. (Parce que quand 18 ans de publications disparaissent en un instant, c’est un peu ça quand même.) On investit du temps et de l’énergie dans une présence en ligne, sur une plateforme qu’on ne contrôle pas. On le sait tous: si on paie pas, on est le produit. Mais le discours de la plateforme sera toujours “jouez le jeu, soyez authentiques, nous on s’occupe des mauvais acteurs, merci d’ailleurs de les signaler”. A partir d’une certaine échelle, automatisation et déshumanisation transforment l’espace communautaire en gouvernement totalitaire.

J’explique dans cette vidéo un peu longuette (la concision n’est toujours pas mon fort) “pourquoi” ou “comment ça se fait” que mon compte facebook ait été suspendu-supprimé. Parce qu’on me demande toujours ça, depuis une semaine: “mais pourquoi?!?”

Donc, explications en vidéo, pas juste pour satisfaire la curiosité des gens qui me connaissent et qui se demandent quel crime numérique j’ai bien pu commettre, mais aussi parce que c’est important de comprendre dans les grandes lignes comment ça marche derrière, et comment ça nous rend tous vulnérables, et que si votre présence en ligne et le contenu que vous partagez sur les plateformes comme facebook ou autres n’est pas quelque chose dont la perte vous laisserait de marbre, il vaut la peine de sortir de sa torpeur bordée de déni et faire une sauvegarde de votre contenu.

Demain, c’est vous qui pourriez vous retrouver devant un panneau “entrée interdite, et en plus on a balancé toutes vos affaires”. Vous n’êtes pas plus innocents que moi.

Si j’ai le courage, je complèterai cet article avec une synthèse écrite de ce que je raconte (merci TurboScribe et ChatGPT qui vont me mâcher le travail).

Edit 15:45 – les fameux points clés. Extraits par mes assistants algorithmiques, fignolés par moi.

Avec l’e-mail, on a des filtres à spam automatisés qui nous protègent du contenu indésirable. Sur les réseaux sociaux, il y a également une “course aux armements” automatisée entre les mauvais acteurs (arnaqueurs, etc) et les plates-formes.

Ces filtres sont imparfaits, et “attrapent” parfois à tort des contenus légitimes. On a tous vécu “l’e-mail qui arrive dans le spam”. Sur Facebook, des contenus inoffensifs sont parfois supprimés à tort. C’est ce qui est arrivé il y a un mois ou deux à une dizaine de mes publications, remontant jusqu’en 2016.

Il y a peu ou pas de possibilité de faire corriger ces erreurs ou de faire recours, et quand recours il y a, c’est également traité de façon automatisée. Les processus sont aussi “cassés” (on annonce une réponse en 24 heures, une semaine plus tard, toujours rien). Dans mon cas, je n’ai pas pu faire recours pour indiquer les erreurs de traitement lors de la suppression de ces publications. Par contre j’ai fait recours concernant la suspension du compte.

Mon compte était déjà “orange” faute à ces faux positifs, et un commentaire posté dans un de mes groupes avec un lien externe l’a fait basculer en “rouge”, entrainant sa suspension immédiate pour 180 jours, puis suppression si j’omets de contester la décision ou si mon appel n’aboutit pas.

Je publie beaucoup, et beaucoup de liens, donc statistiquement, probable qu’il y ait de temps en temps une publication qui déclenche l’alarme à tort; d’administre également des groupes assez grands et actifs, dans le cadre desquels j’envoie régulièrement des messages privés à des personnes qui ne sont pas dans mes contacts et qui ne me répondent pas. Ceci pourrait également avoir généré des “points négatifs” pour mon compte.

Le recours quant à la suspension est une procédure automatisée très basique qui ne permet pas d’argumenter ou de donner des explications. Il s’agit juste en gros de cliquer sur un bouton, et il y a très peu de chances qu’un humain évalue le cas.

Plus rien de ce que j’ai publié en 18 ans sur Facebook n’est visible, sauf ce qui est dans des groupes, visible seulement par les modérateurs. Les pages que je gérais ont disparu, sauf celles où j’avais mis quelqu’un d’autre comme co-admin.

Facebook veut être un acteur majeur de la société, mais peut suspendre ou supprimer des comptes de façon brutale et sans explication. Il n’y a pas de service client ou de moyen de contacter un être humain en cas de problème. Cette logique s’inscrit dans un fonctionnement de plus en plus déshumanisé de nos administrations et institutions, où les utilisateurs sont traités par des processus souvent défectueux et qui ne tiennent pas compte des situations réelles.

Ce qui m’est arrivé peut arriver à n’importe qui, vu qu’il s’agit d’erreurs de traitement. Si la disparition de votre contenu sur la plateforme a des conséquences pour vous, pensez à régulièrement demander un export de vos données (long et ennuyeux à faire, mais…). Si vous gérez des groupes ou des pages, assurez-vous toujours qu’il y ait au moins un autre administrateur en plus de vous.

Facebook Criminal [en]

I’m a facebook criminal
Eighteen years building bridges
Sharing insights life knowledge trivia
Connecting to people and connecting people
Building communities
Building trust
Thinking out loud and crying in words
Loving, debating, rarely hating
Being human, first and foremost
Being me

I’m a facebook criminal
Not like the scammers and spammers
Promoters of fake news
Shills and conspiracy theorists
No, not like them, upstanding netizens
Not like the shady marketers
The pyramid-scheme coaches
The sad trolls and the desperate incels

I’m a facebook criminal
Trying to do good in the digital world
Raising awareness
Saving sick cats
Giving reach to your cry for help
Finding a home for your houseplant
Sharing photos of a hike
Offering a place to crash

I’m a facebook criminal
The worst kind
Authentic
Posting every day
Sharing links to the world wide web
Nourishing the network
Pointing out bad actors
Too many cat photos I’m sure
But didn’t you know
The internet is made of cats
– Maybe not facebook

Eighteen years of posts and comments
Down the drain
All they carried too
Your comments your photos your thoughts
Conversations amputated 
Disappeared
They were yours too, you know
They were ours
Communities like Swiss cheese now
Emptiness where once the backbone was
Conversations with dead friends
Like on Ed Sheeran’s old phone
Gone, maybe for good, like them

I’m a facebook criminal
Convicted by a jury of bots
No humans for me, how ironic
For being too human
The machine will judge and sentence me
A digital death of sorts
Make way for the sycophants
The brands with deep pockets
Those waging the cyberwar
As long as it pays

All your good deeds are just fleeting electrons
But the red marks are hard-coded
Even if we were wrong
The Cluetrain is long gone
Somewhere in the scrap heap
The Gods of the Algorithm
Blinded by power
Will hear no prayers.