Category: Rants


You can make them like you.

I’m gonna write a bit on a song I’ve always liked, but more so in the last several months: “You Can Make Him Like You” by the Hold Steady. Go listen, if you haven’t heard the song before.

The chorus is short and goes like this:

There’s always other boys, there’s always other boyfriends

There’s always other boys, and you can make them like you.

It might be a rather empowering thing to sing to a girl, or as a girl, if it weren’t for the rest of the song…

The song lists a bunch of things the girl doesn’t have to do for herself because her boyfriend does them for her: talk to dealers, know the way home, go to the right schools, and so on. It’s great, all the effort and annoyance that his presence spares her. “It only gets inconvenient” when she wants to do things by herself.

I like the song, but it makes me angry, too. Maybe I like it because it makes me angry, because it reminds me of lessons I had better not forget. The song reminds me too much of my relationship with N, at least in the early years. Minus the drug usage, it hits a little close to comfort. Especially this stanza:

You don’t have to know the inspiring people.

Let your boyfriend know the inspiring people.

You can hang in the kitchen,

Talk about the stars of the upcoming sequel.

When N and I got together, in the early days of my involvement with the free culture movement, I didn’t feel like I had the experience or expertise to have anything important to say. So I, fairly consciously, hid behind N, who seemed to know what he was doing. N was friends with all the cool people, the free culture warriors and scholars. I met them and admired them from a distance, but it didn’t even occur to me that I could or needed to become friends with them in my own right. So I didn’t. I have one or two friends today that I wouldn’t've had if I hadn’t been involved in SFC, and my free culture involvement let me do a few crazy things like visit Croatia, but I feel I wasted most of that opportunity.

I’ve never forgotten an evening towards the end of the first summer N and I spent together. L came over for dinner, bursting with ideas for rebooting SFC. I slipped into the kitchen to make dinner while he and N talked. When we were eating, L said that he was aware of how Marxists and other organizers would (intentionally or unintentionally) exclude women from the strategy and debates by fobbing scut work onto them and that he didn’t want that to happen here; he promised to do his share. By the end of the meal, though, he’d forgotten, and I washed the dishes while L and N planned and plotted.

I’m ashamed to say, I was mostly comfortable with that role. It was easy to justify—N was outgoing, I wasn’t, so of course he could take care of talking and networking and social organizing for the both of us. Just as I made up for his weaknesses in other areas. Being young, I couldn’t tell that our arrangement was codependent, not interdependent. It’s still difficult for me to tell the two apart.

For all of my time in free culture, and most of my time on the East Coast, I let myself be in the background. I let myself be just “N’s girl”. I didn’t push myself outside my comfort zone and try to connect with people I didn’t know well. I didn’t assert opinions that I wasn’t confident of. It was only later, when I had more confidence in my knowledge of the org and held passionately-held opinions to match, that it mattered that I was nothing but “N’s girl” to the rest of SFC. Then no one took me seriously.

Something that often keeps women in unbalanced or unhealthy relationships is the fear of being single. As the song goes, “They say you don’t have a problem, until you start sleeping alone.” But it’s clear—in the song and in life—that that’s not the real problem. Yes, women should be confident that they’ll have other partners; it’s generally the case. But the problem is unless something fundamental changes, they’ll let their new relationship be as unbalanced as their old one. A broken record; change without progress.

I do want to someday be with someone who knows what they want, who has their life mostly sorted, who has their own set of “inspiring people.” I want to date people who are impressive in one manner or another—who doesn’t? But what’s more important than that is I want to be one of those impressive, inspiring people in my own right. I have to promise myself that I will never again hide behind a boyfriend (or anyone else for that matter), never let someone make up for my weaknesses instead of working on them myself. It pisses me off to no end to think of how I shrank back in the past—all the *more* infuriating because of how comfortable and natural it felt to me at the time. That’s why the song makes me mad. It reminds me of how not-myself I let myself become. Whatever else I am, I am no shrinking violet.

I thought about grad school during my lunch break today and got extremely nervous. It’s not a feeling I’m used to; I’ve never had nerves about big events or impending school years or even the transition from high school to college. My course of study was always mostly the same liberal arts dreck, mostly things I was already good at, so I never doubted I would do well. But this fall in my graduate program, much of the curriculum will focus on things I’ve either never done before or have tried in the past and have found difficult. The part of the program I am already familiar with—information law and policy, from my time in the free culture movement—is explicitly what I do not want to concentrate in. Thus, my confidence in my success is much weaker than usual. So much, too, is riding on the next two years. I won’t have the financial wherewithal to fumble around any further and I’ll die before I ever live with my parents again. I *must* find a place for my career to seriously get started when this degree is complete. So, although it’s out of character, I worry.

I’m also starting this chapter in my life truly single and alone for the first time in four years. I’m completely free to determine my fate—and completely responsible for it. (But I repeat myself.) In three months I have to go do awesome things, meet awesome people, and find awesome projects, all on my own. I’m going to have to develop a mostly-new circle of friends, despite the fact that I hate talking to people I don’t know. The possibilities are endless, sure—and it scares me witless. It’s completely terrifying to be wholly responsible for your own life. There’s just no way around that existential truth. But I have promised myself to face up to it. I know now that dependence and bad faith are even worse. So I’ll have to do my best to live for myself as I try to live up to my eternally unrealistically perfectionist expectations.

And, sure, there may be other boys, but I sure as hell had better not make them like me. At least for now.

A common trope in comment threads across the Internet on articles about Facebook’s recent, myriad, astounding privacy fuck-ups is “Just don’t post anything on the Internet that you don’t want your employer or grandma to see. LOL DUUUUHH.” This isn’t terrible advice, but it completely misses the point.

There’s nothing on my Facebook profile that would be actually embarrassing or harmful if it became accessible by the public. But I keep my privacy settings as high as I can because I’m only interested in sharing that information with my friends. It wouldn’t be *terrible* if someone I wasn’t friends with saw it. I’m just not interested in sharing with marketeers or random Internet people. It’s none of their business. And that’s reason enough.

Take another security context. I’m not opposed to strip-searches or backscatter X-rays at the airport because I’m secretly hiding weapons or drugs. I’m opposed to them because my body is simply none of the TSA’s goddamn business. I’m opposed to unwanted exposure for its own sake, not because I’m fearful for the consequences of whatever’s exposed. And, again, that’s reason enough to be opposed.

Additionally, in the words of Cory Doctorow, “In any other context, making public something previously promised to remain private [as Facebook has done] is called ‘lying.’” Facebook has broken a promise made to its millions of users that they would empower them to control who saw their content. It’s broken its own freaking list of Principles for site governance. Facebook has lost its users’ trust; we have no faith in Mark Zuckerberg’s integrity or that of the rest of the company. It deserves to die.

Look Ma! I’m a programmer!

I am currently trying to learn how to code. I’m most of the way through a Python tutorial; after that, I plan to take on Django and try my hand at basic web applications.

Coding is not something I am naturally good at. My worst grade in college was in CS 60. Even after two college CS courses and this tutorial now, I still struggle with it. I understand the high-level concepts just fine—my code just doesn’t work. Everything that can go wrong, does—the usual crop of syntax errors, conceptual mistakes, bizarre bugs that even the CS grader-tutors can’t figure out so you end up having to turn in a broken program for half or no credit. If you read Girl Genius, when it comes to programming I feel like Agatha back when her spark’s artificially crippled.

It’s a weird experience for me because I’ve had little difficulty with virtually any other mode of self-expression. I can draw, paint, sculpt, sing, play piano, speak, and write reasonably competently. It’s frustrating to have ideas for web apps in my head and no way to make them real.

At the same time, from a practical standpoint I like working with computer geeks and mastering code seems like a good way to be able to do that. Basic programming knowledge, specifically in Python, is also a requirement of the iSchool master’s program I plan to attend next fall.

So that’s what’s been motivating me to continue hitting my head against this wall.

Anyway, by way of encouragement, a friend pointed me toward this Jeff Atwood post, as well as its update three years later, about how unbelievably many people—many of them CS majors!—apply to programming jobs but don’t know the basics of coding, at all. Thus, many employers have resorted to requiring applicants to solve simple coding programs over the phone or online before they get to the interview stage in order to avoid wasting everyone’s time. One such easy problem is the FizzBuzz test:

After a fair bit of trial and error I’ve discovered that people who struggle to code don’t just struggle on big problems, or even smallish problems (i.e. write a implementation of a linked list). They struggle with tiny problems.So I set out to develop questions that can identify this kind of developer and came up with a class of questions I call “FizzBuzz Questions” named after a game children often play (or are made to play) in schools in the UK. An example of a Fizz-Buzz question is the following:

Write a program that prints the numbers from 1 to 100. But for multiples of three print “Fizz” instead of the number and for the multiples of five print “Buzz”. For numbers which are multiples of both three and five print “FizzBuzz”.

Most good programmers should be able to write out on paper a program which does this in a under a couple of minutes. Want to know something scary? The majority of comp sci graduates can’t. I’ve also seen self-proclaimed senior programmers take more than 10-15 minutes to write a solution.

Sadly (?), even I can solve this one. Does that mean I qualify as a programmer? :P

My solution after the cut.

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An article ran in the Star Tribune today about the Kelsey Smith Act, a bill being presented in the MN legislature that would require phone companies to triangulate and disclose the location of a cell phone whenever the police ask for it. No court order or subpoena needed.

It’s being billed as a way to find kidnapping victims. And indeed, triangulating cell signals is an important tool for finding lost people—that’s how James Kim’s family was found. But no court oversight whatsoever? Making it possible for the police to get the whereabouts of any cell phone owner, regardless of whether or not there is a real emergency? Creepy!

What’s so bizarre isn’t that people are willing to hand over that kind of authority to the cops, or don’t think through the privacy implications of their proposals. It’s that discussion of the privacy implications of this bill is nowhere to be found in the article. There’s just no mention. It’s presented as this common-sense bill that will save children. Are privacy advocates so few and far between that the writer completely failed to think of the civil liberties angle of the story? Or was it edited out?

There seem to be two stereotypes that dominate the entrepreneurial field.

The first I’ll call West Coast entrepreneurs. They’re the ones Silicon Valley is famous for.

The West Coast entrepreneur is a young, 20-something white dude who attended Harvard or Stanford. (Sorry Yale. And everyone else.) At least one of his co-founders has parents who are wealthy and willing angel investors. If he’s on the techie side, he is and has always been an ubernerd. If he’s on the business side, he was also socially inept as a kid, but now overcompensates for it in ways that are functionally valid but carry a whiff of smarminess, creepiness, or desperation. He is aware of his youthful arrogance and stokes it, takes pride in it; his ego is the size of Montana. He is dead certain that his product will change the world but is cavalier about building ways for people to pay him for it. He may have an Asian male co-founder, and will have Asian males among his early employees, but no other minorities in the early stages—not by design, but “it just worked out that way.” Before exit, he brags about how long he’s gone consuming nothing but ramen and Mountain Dew. After exit, he buys a red electric sports car and eats at black-tie restaurants in his swimming trunks.

The second type is the typical entrepreneurship model everywhere else.

This stereotype is a 40-something rich, golf-playing white man who thinks he’s still hot shit because he built something fifteen years ago that was just good enough to sell. He is motivated by money, ego, and possibly the thrill of the sell. He reads business books and magazines and finds them incredibly insightful. He doesn’t realize that his business is incredibly boring to just about everyone else. If he does happen to realize how boring he is, he becomes an angel investor to live vicariously through the next young crop of entrepreneurs. Sad to say, most of the guest speakers in last year’s Shotput Ventures incubator program fit this stereotype to the T.

If I had to pick one of these to be, I’d pick the former. I have so little in common with the latter stereotype. I hate boring, mediocre products, especially when they succeed in the marketplace.* I detest selling to people. Revenue in itself doesn’t excite me. I completely loathe golf.

But the West Coast entrepreneurship model is obnoxious in its own way too. It’s a fact that venture capital firms reward startups that pitch the best, not the ones that build the best, which enables pie-in-the-sky behavior and encourages talk and smarm over results and realism. Superior products and teams are likely to die from lack of funds if they don’t play along with the Ultra Bleeding-Edge Shiny Hype of the moment. There’s also a surprising amount of snobbishness about where you went to school; unless you developed your product in grad school, if you didn’t attend one of the top of the top schools with a legacy of successful dropout entrepreneurs, forget about it. It also has a deep sexism problem bubbling up from the male-dominated computer science departments and VC firms which compose this entrepreneurial scene.

Besides the systemic problems, from a selfish point of view, I don’t fit the West Coast stereotype either. I’m not male and my parents aren’t ever going to fund me. I attended a well-ranked liberal arts college, but not Harvard or Stanford. (It was a women’s college; that probably doesn’t help!) I’m a geek, but I don’t really know how to code (yet!). I have a strong allergy to buzzwords and zero allergy to bootstrapping. I’m motivated by the dream but I’m well aware that few things are truly world-shockingly revolutionary. (Fortunately, things don’t have to be world-shockingly revolutionary to still be awesome.) Ego is certainly also a motivational factor for me—I enjoy being independent and “self-standing”**—but mine can’t compare to the true delusion you often find in this scene.

I just like doing startups for the opportunity to build something awesome, something better than anything else out there, something that people like and use. It’s that simple. I like working with great human beings; I like to see it when the good guys win. Screw the stereotypes. Screw the buzzwords, and the hype, and the machismo. Screw the entrepreneur-bots. I know there are real, live, good-natured humans who are also startup entrepreneurs; I’ve met and worked with some. Though they’re fewer and farther between than I’d like, that’s the scene I want to inhabit, the people I want to recruit, and the new stereotype I’d like to develop.

—-
* I used to work tech support. Seeing how many bugs were left to fester while the devs pumped out new feature after new feature drove me mad. I never want to be continually embarrassed by the product I’m supposed to represent ever again.

**The Danish word for “self-employed” is “selvstaendige”, pronounced much like “self-standing”.

Linchpin, schminchpin

I started following Seth Godin’s blog from a link somewhere. I hadn’t read any of his (many) books, but it seemed that lots of Internet people paid attention to what he said.

A couple months later, I really don’t get the hype. He’s a very good writer, and he’s had a few interesting things to say on his blog, but a lot of the content is pretty obvious when you think about it. It makes me think that he’s pushing to post something on one of his trademark themes every day, even when he doesn’t happen to have any true insight. “Don’t be phony.” “Have a product worth buying.” “Do something you care about.” Duh.

Godin’s latest book makes a big deal about the “linchpin” metaphor as the role to strive for in one’s career. The rhetoric is nice, but what his thesis comes down to is: “People who are indispensible in their jobs have better careers.” No. Shit. It contains a bunch of self-congratulatory language for people who are currently linchpins in their organizations, but has little to no advice for those of us who are, at present, eminently dispensible, other than to take pride our work and be “artists.” Gosh, that makes it so clear…

Godin’s works have the cheerleader quality of many modern business-type books. I suppose lots of people must find that useful, inspiring, or comforting, or they wouldn’t sell so well, but I’m much more interested in a how-to.

Lilith’s letter

Today I had choir practice for our concert tomorrow. Between each of the songs, members of the choir are doing various readings. One of them was from Mark Twain’s “Extracts From Adam and Eve’s Diaries” (“Forty Years Later” and thereafter).

It was supposed to be a romantic passage, and indeed the other choir members were saying how “beautiful” it was. I thought it was disgusting and insensitive. A decent number of our choir members are widows, for one thing; they didn’t die first, and they are not so weak!

So I wrote a fictionalized response to Twain.

* * *

To Eve

I hesitated in writing you this letter because it would make evident the fact that I read part of your diary. I did not mean to—I did not even realize it was yours until I had already read the part in question. You left it sitting open under the pomegranate tree.

Anyway. Despite the tension between us, and the awkwardness of this particular situation, I felt I should write because I fear you are making the same mistake that I made. You will probably not change your mind—your nature is so different from mine—but at least then I can say I tried. And perhaps we are not completely different. We seem to have had the same taste in men, at least…

So. I will be blunt. To say “I can’t live without you” is not an expression of love. It is not noble. It is not beautiful. It is an expression of abject, self-negating weak-mindedness. Your nature may be less assertive than mine, but I assure you that even you are stronger, worthier than such childish sentiments.

When I loved Adam I also thought I could not live without him. I thought that was what love meant. But as time passed, I realized I could not live with him, either. He wanted and needed me to be someone other than who I am. I could not survive this way. So I left.

It was like amputating your own hand. Leaving love before it festers into loathing, because you know you must, is well compared with self-injury. It hurts. It is debilitating, for a while. But it is not suicide.

You would not ask a deaf person, “How can you live without hearing?” You would not ask a blind person, “How can you live without sight?” So how can you wonder how people can live without their beloved?

I will love, and be loved, again. But I know now that I will always be strong enough to stand alone if I have to. I will not be burned on my husband’s pyre. Will you?

Lilith

Stop the madness. (A debate post.)

I just attended part of my sister’s final debate tournament, Blake. The LD debate resolution for this tournament is “Resolved: Economic sanctions ought not be used to achieve foreign policy objectives.”

Jen had a round with one of the top debaters at this tournament, with Jen affirming the resolution and the other debater negating. The other debater (let’s call her C) ran a case where the WTO was the actor of the resolution, with her entire case* based on the WTO needing economic sanctions to have any power and arguing that without the WTO a wide variety of bad things would happen, including global war. C also ran an observation saying that she claimed the right to determine the actor of the resolution and arguing that only arguments that applied to the WTO should count.

As Jen told me about the round (she got creamed–C is very good :) ), a blindly obvious response occurred to me. Can you guess what it is? More on that later.

Jen said that, because of Jen’s typically-low speaker points, she often debates against C. Frequently C tests weird or somewhat wacky cases on Jen to see how they go. She figured this negative case was one of those.

Later at the Blake tournament, however, I saw C compete in octofinals. She won the coin toss and chose the negative side. As we watched, she ran the same case as she ran against Jenny. I guess it WASN’T an experimental case.

Her opponent dropped a lot of stuff in the 1AR and, failing to conclusively win the standards debate, quite legitimately lost. The opponent, too, failed to make that one extremely crucial point, blindingly obvious to me, that might well have saved her the round.

The madness must end.

Here’s how the cross-examination in that octofinal round should have went:

O: So, in your case the WTO is the actor. What does ‘WTO’ stand for, again?
C: World Trade Organization.
*snickers from the audience*
O: So it’s a global trade organization–there aren’t any trade organizations bigger than it?
C: Yes.
O: It has jurisdiction across the entire world.
C: Yes.
O: So what, pray tell, would be ‘foreign’ to the WTO?
C: …
O: Alien trade organizations on other planets?
C: …
O: Is the WTO a government?
C: No, but–
O: How exactly does a global non-governmental organization have ‘foreign policy objectives’?
fin

“Resolved: Economic sanctions ought not be used to achieve foreign policy objectives.”

The WTO CANNOT use economic sanctions to achieve foreign policy objectives if it does not have a foreign policy. Which it doesn’t, because it’s NOT a freaking COUNTRY. It’s outside the scope of the resolution. And with that ten-second statement, there goes C’s entire case and a good chunk of her rebuttals against the affirmative.

Does C have responses planned for this line of rebuttal? It seems unlikely: there’s no reason to put yourself on such weak footing on purpose. Perhaps she does, though. In any case, for God’s sake, question her on these grounds so we can hear it out!

Somebody stop the madness, people.

* Arguably, there is actually one cross-applicable point within it. Not really important.

I attended a liberal arts college. They taught us to analyze social institutions and their interactions as complexes, systems of power. Well, here goes.

College expenses in the US are absolutely insane. When my parents went to school, you could realistically work your way through college. Today nearly all of the better-ranked liberal arts colleges charge more than $40,000 a year–the entire income of an average American household. How did we get here? Liberal arts colleges across the country have raised their tuition faster than inflation every year, year after year, for decades. When times are bad, they claim their endowments are hurting. When times are good, they claim they need to charge more to improve the academics or athletics or build a shiny new dorm to stay competitive. No matter what, like clockwork, colleges are draining generations of students and their families faster than their incomes improve. It’s been long enough to say that these excuses are bullshit.

For extra infuriating context, consider that in most civilized countries, university is *free* to those who are admitted. No needing to save for kids’ college from zygote to age 18 instead of funding your 401k. No crippling student loan bills that beggar graduates, force young workers to stick with jobs they hate instead of taking risks, and have brought about the boomerang generation and the endless delay of adulthood that social conservatives bemoan. Think of all of the possibilities that are squelched by this ever-increasing drain on our populace’s resources, productivity, and well-being. (The parallels with our lack of universal health care are dire.)

So why hasn’t the market intervened? Why haven’t tuitions leveled off? A major cause is the normalization of student loan debt. Student loans, both federal and private, are guaranteed by the government–even if you declare bankruptcy, you have to give the banks their due. So banks have been giving student loans away like candy–they know young people are good for it, even if they end up living in their parents’ basements to pay them off. College financial aid offices count on this; by default they include student loans as part of their packages, as if deferred penury is the same thing as actual aid! And since the FAFSA punishes savers and completely f***s middle-class families–defined as families whose money comes solely from income, as opposed to the rich whose money comes from wealth–expected family contributions are usually unreasonably high. Thus, even those few schools that claim that their financial aid packages include zero loans are lying through their teeth. For their part, institutional lies and mischaracterizations aside, high school students have zero grounding in basic personal finance–it’s not part of nearly any high school curriculum. Even if they knew, up front, what debt level attending a given school would entail, they don’t have the skills to evaluate whether or not that level is sustainable. (Look how many young people have gotten screwed by credit card debt–which by law is far better documented!)

At the same time, elite schools have convinced generations of parents and students that through their hallowed halls lies the path to financial security. Without a solid education, they say, kids today have no chance of making it. And, indeed, if at the end of racking up all this student debt, graduates were quite likely to find plum jobs that could easily pay that debt back, perhaps it’d be justified.

HA.

The sad thing is that they’re mostly right about their schools being the gatekeepers to the middle class. With the exception of a few trades, statistically it’s basically impossible to “make it” without a bachelor’s, and pretty darn hard without one in the liberal arts or sciences. But although it’s a necessary condition, it’s no longer a sufficient one. There are basically no jobs for new grads anymore. Scripps’ career center does one-year-out surveys of each of its graduating classes. Even in 2002, there are comments about how it’s been hard finding a decent job because of the economy. It was hard in 2007. It was hard in 2008, when I was first looking–even before the banks collapsed in the fall. It’s been nigh-impossible for the grads of 2009. The jokes about liberal arts majors working at Starbucks were funny jabs from the engineering kids in 2004. Only now have we realized it’s the reality.

A couple months ago I interviewed for a job barely paying enough to live on that mostly consisted of testing and shipping widgets, with a nominal bit of web marketing and design associated. I told a friend about it and his response: “Oh. Shipping?” I said, “What?”. He said, “Nothing,” but thirty seconds later proceeded to tweet, “This recession is beating the enthusiasm and ambition out of my generation.”

(I didn’t get the job.)

Now, a year and a half out of school with a variety of new media production, research and writing, and startup development experience under my belt, I’m living with my parents and applying for part-time internships and retail positions at big-box clothing stores. I hate to think what he’d say now. Yes, I know I’m capable of so much more than this. So are most of us. But the creative, white-collar jobs aren’t there for us, and I just can’t afford to try and do cool things on my own anymore.

I still hold out some hope that someday when I’m older I’ll develop a career that will enable me to achieve my parents’ standard of living, even if the statistics don’t bear that out: people who graduate college during a recession are basically screwed for the rest of their working lives. I must admit that between offshoring, business oligarchy, American economic incompetence and cowardice, ridiculous debt levels across the board, and the lack of spending on US education and R&D, I have some doubt as to whether or not there’s going to be a middle class in America when I’m 40. I’m not the only one. But right now? Yeah, I guess the recession, and being unemployed, and everything else that’s been going on have beaten the crap out of me.

So, no. Don’t even try to justify your ballooning costs based on lucrative employment upon graduating. Our income isn’t rising alongside your tuition increases; liberal arts majors are f***ed more than ever right now.

This situation is completely inexcusable. If university presidents are congenitally incapable of capping or trimming costs, they should resign. Immediately. Cutting college costs–yes, including the “sticker price” that they lie and say no one actually pays–is their job and their responsibility. Hang the market forces that have enabled them to shirk it for so long! If they can’t bring themselves to give a damn about financial sense, boards of regents should find people who can. If liberal arts colleges do not even try to keep education affordable enough to be within range of all Americans, without heavy debt, they are NOT fulfilling their mission. They’re just diploma farms with an over-inflated sense of superiority and no head for business.

Because, truly I tell you, the day of reckoning is coming. How many articles this year have focused on parents and college seniors’ new wariness of excessive tuition bills and student debt? Perhaps the prospective engineering, science, economics, and CS majors will still be able to justify elite colleges’ insane bills–studies have found that they still stand a good chance of making money when they graduate (at least, so long as they don’t become teachers). But the rest?

My sister, a high school senior, is very smart and works way too hard. She’s a first chair violin, captain of the debate team, a karate instructor, and fluent in Spanish–among other extra-curriculars and accomplishments. With her grades and resume, there’s a decent chance she could gain admission to any school in the country. BUT…she wants to become a math teacher, potentially in low-income/Spanish-speaking schools. She’s seen my financial difficulties, even with my marketable webcrap skills and the (sadly) relatively low amount of student debt I have. Thus, she has completely ruled out any college that would require her to take on student loan debt: teachers hardly make a living wage, let alone with loans on top! Short of a miracle, this will eliminate her top choice school, whose yearly bill has increased about $10,000 since when I applied, yet caps its merit scholarships at half tuition. It already eliminated any number of top schools that she refused to even consider.

St. Olaf, I can tell you right now that you’re going to lose out big. And, if you don’t get your shit in shape, so will the rest of you liberal arts hypocrites over the next decade or so. Yes, you’re already hypocrites and have been for years. But now you’re running out of families rich enough or foolish enough to pay you for the privilege.

This post is part of a series on applied game mechanics that I’ve been writing for the OpenHatch blog. The original is located here.

Last you heard from us, we were discussing the various common types of game mechanics and game players, including examples from both traditional games and game-like web apps. Today we’re discussing a few of the websites that most inspired us to employ game mechanics and, more fundamentally, try to make OpenHatch addictive.

1.) thesixtyone

thesixtyone is a music discovery site. The site’s stated mission is to make music more meritocratic and help good unknown stuff rise to the top. To that end, users of the site are given a certain number of ‘hearts’ each day. Users listen to songs and, if they like them, can give them one of their hearts. The incentive to only heart stuff you like is 1.) songs that get lots of hearts tend to get pushed to the front page of the site and 2.) if a song gets lots of hearts after you heart it, the song pays you dividends in the form of ‘reputation’ (the sixtyone’s equivalent of points). It’s basically mechanizing the “I listened to them before they were cool” cliche.

thesixtyone also makes heavy use of quests, which teach new users how to use the site and reward older users for particular kinds of site participation–listening to older songs or late at night to make sure that good songs don’t fall through the cracks, for instance. When you complete a quest, you are rewarded with reputation and extra hearts. When you reach a certain level of reputation, you level up, where higher levels receive more hearts each day and, eventually, get the privilege of adding multiple hearts to a song.

thesixtyone does a good job of making it easy to feel like you are connecting personally with the music and musicians on the site. When you feature a song on your personal homepage, thesixtyone suggests that the band should buy you a drink. If you give the maximum number of hearts to a particular song, the site remarks, “Holy Shit!” in deep bass. You can comment right on individual songs or on the artist’s “wall”; if you feature an artist’s song or make a particularly nice comment, often the artist will reply back on your profile. The Growl-esque notifications that appear with popping noises in the bottom right corner make affectionate reference to Pop-Up Video, which I, at least, remember fondly. Also, if you use Adblocker, thesixtyone has a special message for you.

Overall, thesixtyone is an exercise in UX design that is both clean and full of personality. And there’s some damn good music on there. It’s probably our strongest influence.

2.) OKCupid

OKCupid is an online dating site that puts special emphasis on user generated content. Indeed, it may be better known for its collection of quizzes and tests contributed by users than for its dating functionality. Its use of game-like functionality goes beyond quizzes, though. When you first visit OKCupid, you’re greeted by a robot woman who encourages (or goads, depending on your perspective) you to sign up. Once you have, instead of quests you are then encouraged/goaded by a completeness bar which suggests the next thing to do (answer N questions, upload a photo, hit on someone) to make your profile more complete.

3.) Stack Overflow

The fundamental function of Stack Overflow is asking and answering questions about programming on a forum. Doing this does not require you to play or care about Stack Overflow’s reputation game. However, as you participate on the site, you do get reputation for getting good feedback and providing good feedback to others. This reputation gives you more privileges; high-reputation users are nigh-indistinguishable from moderators. In addition to reputation, Stack Overflow also has small, automated badges with moderately clever names classified into bronze, silver, and gold classes based on difficulty. You get a badge for completing various tasks on the site — visiting the site every day for 30 days, or having a question voted up 25 times, for example. The badges aren’t anything special to look at, but they still manage to motivate behavior. There’s a bit of a scoreboard aspect in that you can see which badges have been received by more or fewer users on the Badges page–rarer badges, presumably, feel more special.

4.) Gaia Online

Gaia Online is a gigantic MMORPG-esque forum for anime fans. It makes ridiculous piles of money selling clothes, accessories, and other upgrades that users can apply to their avatars. I won’t go into depth in how their site works, as their evil addictive genius can pretty much be assessed by what they have on their home page:

gaia

Now that you’ve seen our mad scientist senseis and slick inspirations for applied game mechanics in web apps, tune in next time for the result of this research: OpenHatch: The Game.

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