Back From India [en]

[fr] Je suis rentrée d'Inde!

I’m not good at transitions, at changes of life rhythm.

Switzerland to India and back is a big transition, and not because of the temperature gap. Everyone knows there is a huge difference in culture and lifestyle between these two places of mine.

But there might be an added twist. I don’t know if it’s personal to me, or if it’s something others experience while navigating between India and “The West”. When I’m in Switzerland, my life in India seems very very far away. It feels unreal, almost fictional, or like it’s somebody else who is there when I’m there, not really me.

Pune Tulsi Baug 2012 11.jpg

What about when I am in India? India feels very normal. Switzerland is very far away, and my life “at home” also fades away into some degree un “unrealness”, but with a different quality. Put side-by-side 35 years in Switzerland and 1 year in India, I guess it explains it.

(Come to think of it, my time in India is adding up: 11 months + 6 weeks + 5 weeks + 5 weeks + 2 weeks + 6 weeks… we’re approaching a year and a half end-to-end.)

Put simply, I feel there is a rift between me-in-India and me-in-Switzerland. I’m not exactly sure what it means or how to deal with it. I’m almost sure, though, that it does have something to do with the very strong feelings I have about India and Indian culture when I’m not there. It doesn’t mean I’d like to go and live there for good, or even for an extended period. But sometimes I feel a bit like I’m caught up in a one-way love story with the place.

Anyway, here I am in the plane, typing this during the hour-long layover in Frankfurt (thankfully they don’t make us get off the plane). I did not plan my time in India exceedingly well (more about that in a bit), but I did plan my return well: I have 5 full days with no serious work commitments so that I can “land” in peace, and then I ease back into my work life by attending the Lift Conference. Most of my work stuff is currently under control, either because I dealt with it before I left, or because I stayed on top while I was traveling (blogs like the Ebookers Travel Blog and the Paper.li still need an editor even when I’m in India, right?). So, I’m happy with myself about that bit.

What I’m less happy about is how I approached my time in India — but thankfully, the stress I got myself in led to an important realization. You see, my now-annual India retreat is my big chunk of downtime for the year. So I spend all year thinking “oh, when I’m in India, I’ll do… all sorts of things”. Examples of things I planned to do in India:

  • read a huge amount of books
  • write a lot (fiction and for the blog… you can see how well that turned out ;-))
  • put all my photos online, and catch up with the backlog
  • work on my Hindi
  • see a long list of people
  • eat a long list of things
  • learn many more Indian recipes from Nisha
  • do a long list of India-specific things.

What happened with that is that when I arrived in Pune, I started feeling very stressed. There was actually humanly not enough time for me to do everything I had unrealistically put in the “when I’m in India…” box. I understood this during the return journey from Mahabaleshwar, so early enough in my trip, thankfully. I started writing down the list of everything I expected myself to do, and quickly understood why I was feeling so stressed. As I couldn’t extend my time in India (specifically Pune!) I started chopping things off the list. It helped a lot. For my second week in Pune, at the end of my stay, I actually decided to plan my time a little (as much as India allowed) and everything went much better. I’ve learned for next year: diving in without any structure is not a good idea when there are things I actually want to do!

Sometime during the last weeks, I read this article on the absence of work-life balance: there are always piles of things we “wish we had time for” but in practice, even when we do have time for them, we don’t do them. We’re fooling ourselves. I need to think more about this, because I spend a lot of time trying to make more space for things I think I want to do, and failing quite a bit.

So, I didn’t read much this year. I read American Gods. That’s pretty much it. And as you can see, I didn’t write any blog posts (well, barely). However, I did quite a good job on the photos, including catching up with some of last year’s. I saw almost all the people I wanted to see, bought enough stuff to bring back to get me into trouble at the airport (Kuwait Airways: 7kg hand luggage and 20kg in the hold… even though they didn’t enforce the 7kg hand luggage limit on the way to India — I hate it when airlines are not consistent).

I think I had a really nice time. I had some adventures, which I tweeted about when they happened. Come to think of it, maybe this is one of the reasons I blogged less? I had an Indian SIM card with data, which meant that I pretty much stayed connected on Facebook and Twitter and Path. Aside from that, I have to say that having a local phone number and data connection made my life a thousand times easier (think: suspicious-looking rickshaw-driver and Google Maps, for example).

I might or might not write about these in more detail at some point, but just to give you an idea:

  • a day trip to Mahabaleshwar with a bunch of scientists
  • frogs in the kitchen in Kerala
  • swimming in the Arabian sea, both in my clothes (Kerala) and in my swimsuit (Goa)
  • many days of rice and sambar and fish/chicken curry (very nice but a little repetitive for me!)
  • trying to teach a bunch of Hindi-speaking Delhi guys a French song
  • huge piles of seafood
  • being climbed all over by a two-year-old in the train (I was not in the mood)
  • drinking 80-rupee masala chay (in a teapot, probably justifies the price)
  • a whole afternoon/evening of listening to students in Western classical music perform (very nice and completely unexpected!)
  • car encounter with a roadside tree-stump (nobody hurt but the car)
  • a very long day trip to a waterfall which turned out to be dry (food not included
  • unexpectedly really liking Goa (large quantities of seafood helped, so did the Portuguese architecture)
  • things turning out all right when I didn’t expect them to
  • experimenting the 2×2 sleeper bus: one berth, 1m80 by 1m20, me, and some unknown Indian guy (more horrified than me, probably)
  • no major stomach issues! yay!

Of course, aside from the adventures, there was also things like eating lovely food, discovering new Hindi music, spending time with nice people (old friends and new acquaintances), taking lots of photos, relaxing, enjoying the warmth (specially when Siberia decided to move to Lausanne). I think I had a really nice time and am coming back relaxed and refreshed (once I’ve got over the jet lag and lack of sleep from travel).

Losing Credit [en]

[fr] De plus en plus, quand je partage un article intéressant sur Twitter ou Facebook, j'ai complètement perdu la trace de comment j'y suis arrivé. Ça m'embête, parce que je trouve important de donner un "retour d'ascenseur" (si petit soit-il) à ceux qui enrichissent mes lectures.

I have about 20 tabs open in Chrome with articles to read. And then, I have a scary number of links stacked away in Instapaper and (OMG how will I retrieve them all) many more in my Twitter favorites.

My sources for reading this day? My facebook news stream, Twitter, Tumblr, the odd e-mail from my Dad (he’s the one who pointed me to the BBC piece on the Ugly Indians of Bangalore — check out my post about them — amongst other things). I’ve signed up for Summify and though I have barely set it up, I find good reading in the daily e-mail summary it sends me. I can also see that Flipboard is going to become a source of choice for me once I’m back in Switzerland and have normal data access on my phone. And of course, once I’m reading an article, I click interesting links in it and often find other interesting articles in the traditional “related” links at the end.

Once I’m reading an article, I post snippets I find relevant to Digital Crumble, and depending on how interesting the article is, post it to Twitter, Facebook, or Climb to the Stars.

Why am I telling you all this?

I believe it’s important to give credit to those who point me to stuff interesting enough that I want to point others to it. The traditional “hat tip” or “via” mention. But I’m finding it more and more difficult to remember how I got to a particular page or article. Actually, most of the time, by the time I’m ready to reshare something, I have no clue how I arrived there.

This happened in the good old days of blogging as only king of online self-expression, of course, but less, I think. Our sources were more limited. Concentrated in one place, the aggregator. Shared by less people, in a more “personal” way (how much personal expression is there in tweet that merely states the title of an article and gives you the link?). When I click an article in my Facebook newsfeed, I don’t often pay attention to who shared it. It’s just there.

So, I wish my open tabs had some way of remembering where they came from. That, actually, is one of the reasons I like using Twitter on my phone, because the links are opened in the same application, and when I go back I see exactly which tweet I clicked the link from. Sadly, sharing snippets to Tumblr (something that’s important to me) does not exactly work well inside the mobile Twitter app.

Is anybody working on this? Is this an issue you care about too? I’d love to hear about it.

Mais qu'est-ce qui se passe? [fr]

[en] What makes the blogger fall off the wagon? Stress. Nothing bad, just a lot of things to deal with right now. Will be back soon!

C’est fragile, la routine. Vous bloguez tous les jours pendant un moment, et paf!, quelque chose vous fait tomber du train.

Quelque chose?

Le stress.

Eh oui, c’est tout bête. Il se passe un truc pas prévu, le stress grimpe, les articles ne s’écrivent pas.

Pas pour rien que ma mission pour 2012 s’intitule “moins de travail, plus de temps pour faire mes trucs”.

Bref, tout va bien, je suis un peu prise dans le tourbillon des choses à boucler (les valises ça attendra la semaine prochaine) avant de partir en Inde pour six semaines.

Bientôt des articles ici, de nouveau. Promis. Mais oui.

Linkball for a Sunday Night [en]

[fr] Un peu de lecture pour dimanche soir.

Boundaries and Outsourcing Our Brains [en]

[fr] Réflexion sur le fait que notre utilisation de la technologie consiste à déléguer certaines fonctions cérébrales (calcul, mais aussi stockage/mémoire), et sur la nécessité de chercher un équilibre dans notre connectivité en posant des limites, sans pour autant fuir dans la déconnexion complète.

I went to a lovely dinner party the other night, put together by the no-less-lovely Cathy Brooks of DoAT. At some point of the evening, we shared our thoughts on what we were seeing that qualified as “most disruptive”. Where are things going, according to the diners?

I have to admit I drew a bit of a blank in the “disruptive” department — I’m trying to quieten down these days. However, there are two things I see going on that seem important to me.

The first is that we’re outsourcing our brains. It’s an evidence — a huge amount of what computing does for us is that. The internet, mobile phones, better interfaces — all that accelerates and facilitates the process.

We don’t just use machines to outsource long complicated mathematical calculations anymore. We use them to decide where to eat. To remember what we need to do tomorrow. To know who acted in which movie. Where we met people, and when. Who they are and what they do. What we did when and where.

We’re using machines to remember stuff. Does it scare you? It doesn’t scare me that much, to be honest, because as long as that information is almost instantly available to us, does it make a big difference if it was stored in our brains or elsewhere? Have you read those SF books (like Alastair Reynolds‘s Revelation Space series — I love his stories) where humans have implants that connect them permanently to a kind of “cloud” or “network”? I mean, it’s just what we have now, with a better interface. I think we’re getting there.

We’ve been doing this with people forever. When you have a close relationship with somebody, you outsource (or delegate) some of your cognitive processes or data storage to them. I can’t remember if I read about this in Blink or The Tipping Point, but it was Malcolm Gladwell who introduced me to the idea.

In a couple, somebody is often in charge of the schedule. Or of cooking. Or of taking initiative for the holidays. Or of keeping up with movies to see. Breaking up (or losing that important other in any way) is traumatizing also because of the “data loss”. It’s a slightly utilitarian and mechanical view of relationships, of course, but it’s onto something.

The feeling of disconnect we have when away from technology (almost like a missing limb) has some kinship with the feeling of lack of access when we’re aware from our external data storage humans. “Oh, if only Andy were here, I’d just ask him X/he’d know what to do.”

Right, enough of confusing humans with machines.

The second thing that’s been on the top of my mind for the last couple of years is the question of boundaries. In an always-connected world, providing better and better interfaces with all the data out there and the spaces we store it in (machine or human), we are forced to learn boundaries. Boundaries with humans, especially when there are too many of them, and boundaries with technology.

For many of us, technology is closely linked to work, and learning to be offline is also learning to disconnect from work. Should we learn to be offline? Is it something we need? It seems obvious to us today, but I’m not sure it will be seen as that important in 10-20 years.

Do we think it’s important to spend days without electricity? Without cars (yes, but once a year)? Without cooking food? Without a roof over our head? Without newspapers or books? It’s different, you’ll say. Not that different — just that those are technologies that were born before us, and we don’t question them as much as those that appear during our adult lifetime.

Disconnecting is a radical way of avoiding the issue of having to set boundaries with technology and people. But we do not owe it to people to be available when they try to reach us. In most of our lines of work, nobody is going to die if we don’t check our e-mail. We can learn to say no, to not respond to certain requests, to not pick up the phone.

Of course we need disconnection at times. E-mail sabbaticals should become an acceptable thing in companies. For that, we need more people who have the guts to do it (responsibly of course). I found that spending a week offline helps reset normalcy. It’s easier to resist the temptation to check your e-mail first thing in the morning when you’ve spent a week without it. It’s easier to slow down when you’ve been offline for a week. I think it’s particularly useful to take these breaks when “online” and “work” are related. In a way, it just comes down to taking a “real” holiday. Just as needing time off work doesn’t mean we should aim to purge work from our lives, needing breaks from tech doesn’t mean we need to try and remove it from our lives.

I believe it is possible to remain connected and at the same time to preserve our personal space and time. Yes, that requires being able to say no, and set boundaries, but that’s simply healthy human behaviour.

Answering when addressed is etiquette that holds in a world where the physicality of space and time already sets boundaries for us — in the digital world, it needs to be rethought.

I remember this researcher who was interviewed in a Radiolab episode (probably “Deception“). He strived to not lie — you know, those social lies you say all the time. “Oh, sorry I can’t meet you for dinner next week, I’m too busy.” Instead, he would say things like (quoting from memory) “I’m sorry, but I’m not actually looking to pursue new friendships right now.” I think this kind of attitude requires courage and diplomacy. And I think that more and more, we’re going to have to learn it.

In a connected world, these social lies become more difficult. I might end up having to own up to the fact that yes, I’m there, at home, watching a DVD, available for my friends and family, but not for my clients. It’s not easy, but it’s doable.

So, I think we should go for balance, and boundaries, rather than rejection and disconnection.

Renault at LeWeb: Lovely Lounge and the Twizy Test Drive [en]

[fr] J'ai testé la Renault Twizy pour vous, très sympa! Vidéo bientôt, avec du français dedans 🙂

Update 14.12.2011: here’s the video, thanks so much to Charbax!

Remember last year? I fell in love with the Renault Twizy that was on display at LeWeb. Andrea had lent me his 7-14mm lens and I thought the playful electric car was a great subject.

LeWeb'10 First Day 20 - Renault Twizy

This year, we’re not just looking at a prototype. We’re looking at the real thing, and you can sign up for test drives at the Renault lounge (or try your luck dropping in). Here’s a little corner of their lounge, by the way, nice and cozy for a little sit-down before or after listening to what’s going on on the main stage.

Renault lounge at Le Web -- cozy!

And here’s the car on display:

Twizy Car at LeWeb'11.

So, I got to test drive the car this morning — thanks a lot to German for accompanying me there personally and taking the photos. (German manages blogger relations for Renault, official partner of LeWeb this year). Charbax was around too, and he shot a video of my test. It will be online soon! (Warning: mixture of French and English in the video ;-))

Twizy Test Drive 1060872.jpg

First thing, special seat-belt. In addition to the normal seat-belt, you get a second one on the other side. “So you don’t fall out,” said the kind guy helping me in. What I see first, though, having been in a couple of accidents (bumping into the car in front of me, don’t ask) is that at least with this set up I’ll get “straight” whiplash, and not the nasty twisty trauma that comes with the traditional seat-belt. But most probably, I won’t get into any accident with this lovely Twizy.

Twizy Test Drive 1060877.jpg

To start the car, press down on the brake pedal (and not the gas pedal as I embarrassingly did, yup, that’s me realizing what I’d done, below), and turn the key. You don’t hear anything, but the engine is on.

Twizy Test Drive at LeWeb

And off we go! It’s fun to drive. You can actually accelerate!

Twizy Test Drive 1060890.jpg

Twizy Test Drive 1060887.jpg

Photos are a bit blurry? That’s because I was moving fast. The guy on the left told me to slow down, oopsie 🙂

Twizy Test Drive 1060886.jpg

Already over, but I enjoyed myself!

Twizy Test Drive 1060893.jpg

Twizy Test Drive 1060895.jpg

Thanks a lot for the drive! I think that if I have a car again someday, it will look more like this one than like those I’ve had in the past.

LeWeb'11 Is Underway [en]

[fr] LeWeb, édition 2011!

I would not be doing my job if I didn’t drop you a note to tell you I’m at LeWeb. But you know that, don’t you?

The conference is well underway, and I’d like to invite you to keep up with what’s going on through the Nespresso Lounge, a collection of Twitter activity of speakers, participants, official bloggers, startups, and general chatter about #leweb, and the posts a bunch of the official bloggers are producing during the conference.

If you’re wishing you were there, pick up the live video feed and pretend you’re in Paris!

Habituation, Variety, and Intermittent Rewards [en]

[fr] Habituation, variété, récompenses aléatoires... il me manque un petit quelque chose pour lier tout ça ensemble.

Here’s another post in the “variety is the spice of life” series. My first intuition that it might make sense to vary the type of blog posts one produces to sustain reader interest didn’t actually have to do with my readings about habituation in The How of Happiness, although it was at the same moment and I then quickly put the two together.

When I initially suggested varying blog post type/topic to somebody who had a blog which was made of a series of very similar posts, I was thinking of intermittent rewards. So now, I’m wondering: how does what I’ve understood about habituation, the need to vary one’s happiness strategies, and intermittent reward reinforcement fit together?

Clearly, a system with intermittent rewards keeps your brain on high alert. Is varying one’s happiness activities also simply just keeping one’s brain alert, by providing “rewards” (the boost one gets from doing something that makes one happy) not on a completely regular schedule? Do intermittent rewards work against habituation?

I feel I’m onto something here but I can’t quite bring it all together.

We have: habituation => need for variety; vary reward schedule => increased reinforcement. Are we talking about the same thing (brain-wise, are the same phenomenons/chemicals involved) — or are these two similar things, that look similar, but are in fact two separate issues? What is the missing link here?

If you have thoughts, data, research, or case studies around this, I’m interested.

I also think there is something in this which explains why we have “phases” (go a lot to the cinema during a few months/years, then less, or read a lot, then less, take up a hobby, abandon it) and why (at least in my case) we play games for a moment, then move on to another one (I’m playing Zombie Café right now but feel the need for something new soon).

Du désengouement pour les réseaux sociaux (et tout le reste) [fr]

[en] Social media losing speed? Nope, it's just normal that after a few months or years of using a new toy intensely, many people move on. To a new, similar toy or a completely different one.

Je lis un article (parmi bien d’autres) dans lequel on réfléchit aux causes d’un certain essoufflement dans l’usage des réseaux sociaux.

Pour moi, on est à côté de la plaque avec ce genre de questions.

Ce n’est pas une problématique liée aux réseaux sociaux. Ça a à voir avec la façon dont la nouveauté nous stimule. On est sur la bonne piste avec les lamentations concernant les “effets de mode”, mais on trivialise la problématique en l’étiquetant ainsi. Parce que ce n’est pas juste que nous sommes de superficiels moutons victimes de la mode. Il s’agit de la façon dont fonctionne nos cerveaux d’animaux humains — et on n’y échappe pas.

J’ai beaucoup réfléchi récemment au lien entre la nouveauté et l’efficacité d’une méthode ou d’une stratégie. J’en ai compris l’importance capitale en lisant The How of Happiness — dans le contexte des activités qui nous rendent heureux (on sait tous que trop de routine crée l’ennui, et que le bonheur ne se trouve pas dans l’ennui, n’est-ce pas?) — mais je vois depuis ce même phénomène à l’oeuvre dans une multitude de domaines.

Voici l’exemple qui m’a marqué. L’équipe de recherche de Sonja Lyubomirsky, l’auteur du livre, avait démontré que prendre régulièrement du temps pour sentir ou exprimer de la reconnaissance rendait les gens plus heureux. Les chercheurs se sont ensuite attelés à identifier la meilleure façon de sentir ou d’exprimer cette reconnaissance.

L’expérience est assez simple. On sépare les sujets de l’expérience en deux groupes, qui prendront une demi-heure pour mettre par écrit ce pour quoi ils sont reconnaissants:

  • le premier groupe le fera chaque dimanche soir
  • le deuxième groupe chaque lundi, mercredi, vendredi.

On regarde ensuite dans quel groupe le bonheur des gens a le plus augmenté après l’expérience.

Contrairement à ce qu’on pourrait attendre, c’est la méthode du premier groupe (une seule fois par semaine) qui est la plus efficace. Mais pourquoi donc? On suppose qu’à faire l’exercice trois fois par semaine, un phénomène d’habituation intervient

L’habituation, c’est ce qui fait que même après un terrible accident ou le décès d’un être cher, on finit par retrouve le goût de vivre, une nouvelle normalité. C’est assez sain, en fin de compte. Mais ça a ses inconvénients: les changements positifs dans notre vie subissent le même sort (leur effet s’atténue assez vite avec le temps).

Mais quand on y pense, ça explique beaucoup de choses. En particulier, ça explique pourquoi quand on croit avoir trouvé la solution à un problème qui nous enquiquine, ça marche souvent au début, mais assez vite, ça ne marche plus. Si vous êtes comme moi, vous avez peut-être essayé toute une série de méthodes pour mieux vous organiser ou mieux gérer votre temps ou votre argent ou votre poids ou votre efficacité ou… A chaque fois, on croit enfin avoir trouvé “ce qui marche”, pour déchanter quelques semaines ou mois plus tard, quand on se retrouve “immunisé” contre la solution magique qu’on croyait avoir trouvée.

Sommes-nous donc condamnés à chercher “toujours une meilleure solution”, à courir derrière la nouveauté? Pas nécessairement, mais il faut avoir conscience que pour tenir sur la durée, il faut introduire de la variété. L’exemple bateau et que tout le monde connaît, c’est celui du couple. Si vous voulez que ça dure, il faut (entre autres) éviter de sombrer dans la routine. Certes, on a des habitudes, mais celles-ci peuvent évoluer au fil du temps, et on peut chercher aussi à garder de la fraîcheur à la relation en y introduisant de la nouveauté.

Pourquoi je vous raconte tout ça?

Parce que je crois que les réseaux sociaux ne font pas exception. Ce sont des outils, qui servent à ceux qui les utilisent. Pour communiquer avec certaines personnes, s’exprimer, s’informer, “être ensemble”. A un certain niveau, ils sont donc une “solution” à “quelque chose” (que je n’appellerai pas nécessairement un “problème” — mais ils jouent un rôle). Aussi, ce sont des outils que l’on utilise souvent quotidiennement ou presque. Il est normal qu’une certaine routine s’installe, une fois passée la phase de découverte, l’arrivée des gens de notre entourage, l’excitation liée à l’arrivée de nouvelles fonctionnalités.

Il est donc parfaitement normal que ces outils perdent de leur attrait à un certain point. On s’y habitue. Ils deviennent du coup moins efficaces à remplir leur rôle pour nous — même si c’est un rôle social ou d’information. On connaît déjà ça, hors ligne. On a des “phases”. Pendant un an ou deux, on va régulièrement au même bar. Puis on s’en fatigue, et on va ailleurs. Ou bien on lit un magazine religieusement, ou on regarde une émission télé, et un jour on réalise qu’on a passé à autre chose. On voit certains amis beaucoup, plus plus du tout. Ainsi va la vie.

Les choses qui durent sont une exception. Et si on regarde de près, peut-être bien que dans ces choses qui durent, il y a plus de variété qu’il n’y semble à premier abord (je pense aux feuilletons télé: leur contenu est fait pour nous stimuler constamment en nous assaillant de rebondissements, imprévus et nouveaux personnages).

Les gens se lassent de Facebook? Mais bien sûr. C’est “normal”, Facebook, maintenant. L’e-mail, c’est normal, ça n’émerveille plus personne (enfin par ici). Internet aussi, sauf pour ceux qui le découvrent. Facebook et Twitter, aussi. Les blogs, je n’en parle même pas. On s’enthousiasme pour le nouveau, le différent, et pas pour le normal. C’est ainsi que notre cerveau est conçu. On n’y échappe pas.

Les outils sociaux, nouveaux par essence lors de leur apparition, se trouvent rapidement pris dans une course effrénée aux nouvelles fonctionnalités, pour maintenir justement ce sentiment de nouveauté et de fraîcheur innovatrice — cela d’autant plus, à mon avis, que les premiers utilisateurs sont en général encore plus sensibles que la majorité à cet attrait de la nouveauté (et à la lassitude qui accompagne le connu).

A m’entendre, vous pourriez penser que je ne vois pas de problème dans notre société sur-saturée de stimulations, qui nous distribue du nouveau comme de la drogue. Alors oui, je dis que le neuf et la variété représente un attrait indéniable pour notre cerveau de mammifères, et qu’il faut l’accepter. Mais le problème avec une société qui nous en donne à manger à la petite cuillère, c’est que l’on ne développe peut-être pas suffisamment la capacité à générer de la nouveauté de nos vies nous-mêmes. On attend que la stimulation vienne de l’extérieur.

Se prendre la tête sur les raisons d’un “désengouement” pour les réseaux sociaux, c’est à mon avis l’expression d’une vision et d’une compréhension un peu réduites du monde et du fonctionnement de l’humain. Ça n’a rien à voir avec les réseaux sociaux. Ça a à voir avec les humains.

Bien sûr qu’après un pic d’enthousiasme pour quelque chose, il faut s’attendre à une baisse d’utilisation. Rien de nouveau sous le soleil, passez votre chemin!