Jonathan MosenI want to share a personal view on the discussions around banning social media for people under a certain age because I fear the voices of blind people and others who belong to communities that are not necessarily geographical are not being heard.
One of my favorite podcasts is called Feel Better, Live More. Many of these episodes are incredibly long. I mean mate! You may have thought that Living Blindfully was long, but some of these are even longer! The host, Rangan Chatterjee, lives in the UK. Lately he has been campaigning, successfully it seems, for an Australia-style social media ban.
I’ve never met him, but through his podcast, I have grown to like him. I don’t always agree with everything he says or thinks, but I do wish more of us could accept that even though we don’t think the same, that doesn’t always make the person with a different view a bad person.
So, I wrote the following to him in an email. I put a lot of me into this email, and I thought long and hard about sharing it here, but it does offer a different perspective, and I’m a long way away from the suicidal teenager I once was. So, here it is.
Hi Rangan
I would first like to thank you sincerely for your podcast. There is so much about it for which I am grateful. In an era where taking a superficial approach to all kinds of issues is common, I am grateful for the depth with which you discuss the issues on which you choose to focus.
As an audio geek, I also love the production values. It’s exceptionally well produced. I will keep listening.
I have also found your books to be excellent reading. You are making a difference in the world.
This email is a long one, but it is written from the heart. I have no idea if it will even get to you, but if not, perhaps I can consider it good therapy. 😊
About a year ago, I subscribed to the Friday Five, which I also enjoy on the whole. I have noted with increasing discomfort your campaigning for a social media ban for those under 16 in the UK, where I do not live. While it was a theoretical discussion, it was easy to shrug it off and say that diversity of opinion makes for an interesting world and it is good to test one’s own opinions by being exposed to alternative perspectives. But now that the UK Government is proceeding, and seeing the newsletter today describing this as “a big win for children”, I feel moved to write to share my story with you.
I am blind, grew up in New Zealand, and was head-hunted for a significant position in the United States, where I now live. I suppose by many people’s measurements of such things, I have been very successful. But I could just as easily have been dead by now and I have the early version of social media to thank for my survival.
As a teenager thinking about what I wanted to do with my life, I knew I had a gift for radio, and could even be heard on radio occasionally in the city I grew up in. Someone told me about an ad in the paper they’d seen for a broadcasting course run by professional broadcasters. I did what the ad said and sent them a demo tape, which I put a lot of work into. The head of the course called me, offering me a place on the course. He also told me the price tag, which was way beyond my abilities as a penniless student. On that basis, I declined. But to my astonishment, he called me back again. He said that my tape was so good that they would offer me the course for half price, because they were sure I would be going places in radio, and they wanted to be able to say that Jonathan Mosen had graduated from their course. So I said, cool! I’ll pay half price, and can I come in a little early as I want to get familiar with the equipment and put Braille labels on the media being used. And it was like someone had flipped an attitude switch. He asked me what I was talking about. I told him that I was blind, so I’d just make a couple of simple modifications and I’d be up and running. He said, “you’re wasting my time. There’s no point doing the course since a blind person could never have a future in radio.” There was only one factor that changed his perception of me from future radio star to waste of space and waste of time. My blindness. So, I never did the course. And a few years later, on a radio station at which we both worked, I became his boss.
But a lot happened between being denied entry to that course, and supervising the person responsible for the denial. The denial made it crystal clear to me that the problem with being blind wasn’t my blindness itself, the problem was what other people thought about it. Fortunately for me, at about this time, I used money I’d saved from an after school job to buy an item that is now considered a technological relic, called a dial-up modem, which I connected to another piece of ancient technology called the Keynote XL, a talking computer designed for blind people. I used it to connect to a service that preceded the mass adoption of the Internet called the CompuServe Information Service, which was based in the United States. CompuServe had online forums, one of which was the Disabilities forum containing a subsection devoted to blindness issues. It was through CompuServe in the 1980s that I first connected with the messages of transformation and truth about blindness coming from the National Federation of the Blind in the United States. Reading the Federation’s literature, and messages from people who were applying the Federation’s truth to their own lives, changed my life, and perhaps even saved my life. The Federation replaced my deep despondency and sense of hopelessness with hope. Where I felt overwhelm, I now felt determination, because I was connected with older blind role models who understood the issues I was having, and gave me strategies for confronting them constructively.
My connection with the Federation guided me and inspired me to turn what I originally saw as a career-threatening setback, being declined access to a broadcasting course merely because of my blindness, into a challenge to inform and educate.
Inspired by messages from Federationists about finding a career, I began calling a lot of radio DJs, just to get to know them, and that helped build my networks. Then I decided that the best way to prove I could have a career in radio was by starting my own temporary radio station. It took me a few years of trial and error to navigate the bureaucracy, but eventually, the Government granted me a temporary two-week license to run a radio station from the school for the blind. I was determined that the station, which we called Radio Enterprise and could be heard right throughout the city, would be run as a commercial venture, not a charitable one. We pounded the pavement and sold advertising, which covered the hiring of the professional broadcast equipment, and a massive AM transmitter mast which was temporarily erected in a field nearby.
I then wrote to every radio station executive and personality I could think of, asking them to tune in, and even come out and see us in action. Many did, and when it was time for me to seek a job in radio, I had great networks and it wasn’t difficult at all.
I credit the National Federation of the Blind for boosting my confidence and bringing out in me a dogged sense of tenacity, even though the organization was half a world away. And I would not have found it, and the people who changed the whole trajectory of my life, without the Internet.
Many blind people now go to their local schools. They are often isolated. They don’t often get to connect with blind young people like them to share struggles, tips and tricks. I worry deeply about the impact on communities of disabled people that are distinct but not geographical who will be dramatically affected by a social media ban.
Of course, many modern social media tools are no CompuServe. They serve content based on sophisticated algorithms designed to promote engagement, and disharmony promotes engagement. I completely agree with you about that fundamental concern. Where I disagree is that the blunt instrument of a ban for people based on age is the answer. First due to the points I have just made, but second, just because you’re over the age of 16, it doesn’t mean you are going to be able to cope with the consequences of these harmful algorithms. There are adults for whom the algorithms are causing significant mental health issues, and I am very concerned about that.
The answer in my view is to go after and regulate the algorithms, not ban people below a certain age.
I don’t think you are on Mastodon, but this, to me, shows what social media can be. An algorithm-free, open platform that no entity can ever own.
As I say, without being able to connect me with people who got me out of the depths of despair, I may not be here to write this to you.
I will keep listening, but I have felt a moral compunction to cancel my premium subscription, because I completely respect your right to campaign for those causes you care about, but I feel that this one will do blind people like me real harm, and I feel discomfort about contributing even in an indirect way to funding it.
Thanks once again, and if you have in fact read this and got all the way to the bottom, I appreciate that very much.
One of my favorite podcasts is called Feel Better, Live More. Many of these episodes are incredibly long. I mean mate! You may have thought that Living Blindfully was long, but some of these are even longer! The host, Rangan Chatterjee, lives in the UK. Lately he has been campaigning, successfully it seems, for an Australia-style social media ban.
I’ve never met him, but through his podcast, I have grown to like him. I don’t always agree with everything he says or thinks, but I do wish more of us could accept that even though we don’t think the same, that doesn’t always make the person with a different view a bad person.
So, I wrote the following to him in an email. I put a lot of me into this email, and I thought long and hard about sharing it here, but it does offer a different perspective, and I’m a long way away from the suicidal teenager I once was. So, here it is.
Hi Rangan
I would first like to thank you sincerely for your podcast. There is so much about it for which I am grateful. In an era where taking a superficial approach to all kinds of issues is common, I am grateful for the depth with which you discuss the issues on which you choose to focus.
As an audio geek, I also love the production values. It’s exceptionally well produced. I will keep listening.
I have also found your books to be excellent reading. You are making a difference in the world.
This email is a long one, but it is written from the heart. I have no idea if it will even get to you, but if not, perhaps I can consider it good therapy. 😊
About a year ago, I subscribed to the Friday Five, which I also enjoy on the whole. I have noted with increasing discomfort your campaigning for a social media ban for those under 16 in the UK, where I do not live. While it was a theoretical discussion, it was easy to shrug it off and say that diversity of opinion makes for an interesting world and it is good to test one’s own opinions by being exposed to alternative perspectives. But now that the UK Government is proceeding, and seeing the newsletter today describing this as “a big win for children”, I feel moved to write to share my story with you.
I am blind, grew up in New Zealand, and was head-hunted for a significant position in the United States, where I now live. I suppose by many people’s measurements of such things, I have been very successful. But I could just as easily have been dead by now and I have the early version of social media to thank for my survival.
As a teenager thinking about what I wanted to do with my life, I knew I had a gift for radio, and could even be heard on radio occasionally in the city I grew up in. Someone told me about an ad in the paper they’d seen for a broadcasting course run by professional broadcasters. I did what the ad said and sent them a demo tape, which I put a lot of work into. The head of the course called me, offering me a place on the course. He also told me the price tag, which was way beyond my abilities as a penniless student. On that basis, I declined. But to my astonishment, he called me back again. He said that my tape was so good that they would offer me the course for half price, because they were sure I would be going places in radio, and they wanted to be able to say that Jonathan Mosen had graduated from their course. So I said, cool! I’ll pay half price, and can I come in a little early as I want to get familiar with the equipment and put Braille labels on the media being used. And it was like someone had flipped an attitude switch. He asked me what I was talking about. I told him that I was blind, so I’d just make a couple of simple modifications and I’d be up and running. He said, “you’re wasting my time. There’s no point doing the course since a blind person could never have a future in radio.” There was only one factor that changed his perception of me from future radio star to waste of space and waste of time. My blindness. So, I never did the course. And a few years later, on a radio station at which we both worked, I became his boss.
But a lot happened between being denied entry to that course, and supervising the person responsible for the denial. The denial made it crystal clear to me that the problem with being blind wasn’t my blindness itself, the problem was what other people thought about it. Fortunately for me, at about this time, I used money I’d saved from an after school job to buy an item that is now considered a technological relic, called a dial-up modem, which I connected to another piece of ancient technology called the Keynote XL, a talking computer designed for blind people. I used it to connect to a service that preceded the mass adoption of the Internet called the CompuServe Information Service, which was based in the United States. CompuServe had online forums, one of which was the Disabilities forum containing a subsection devoted to blindness issues. It was through CompuServe in the 1980s that I first connected with the messages of transformation and truth about blindness coming from the National Federation of the Blind in the United States. Reading the Federation’s literature, and messages from people who were applying the Federation’s truth to their own lives, changed my life, and perhaps even saved my life. The Federation replaced my deep despondency and sense of hopelessness with hope. Where I felt overwhelm, I now felt determination, because I was connected with older blind role models who understood the issues I was having, and gave me strategies for confronting them constructively.
My connection with the Federation guided me and inspired me to turn what I originally saw as a career-threatening setback, being declined access to a broadcasting course merely because of my blindness, into a challenge to inform and educate.
Inspired by messages from Federationists about finding a career, I began calling a lot of radio DJs, just to get to know them, and that helped build my networks. Then I decided that the best way to prove I could have a career in radio was by starting my own temporary radio station. It took me a few years of trial and error to navigate the bureaucracy, but eventually, the Government granted me a temporary two-week license to run a radio station from the school for the blind. I was determined that the station, which we called Radio Enterprise and could be heard right throughout the city, would be run as a commercial venture, not a charitable one. We pounded the pavement and sold advertising, which covered the hiring of the professional broadcast equipment, and a massive AM transmitter mast which was temporarily erected in a field nearby.
I then wrote to every radio station executive and personality I could think of, asking them to tune in, and even come out and see us in action. Many did, and when it was time for me to seek a job in radio, I had great networks and it wasn’t difficult at all.
I credit the National Federation of the Blind for boosting my confidence and bringing out in me a dogged sense of tenacity, even though the organization was half a world away. And I would not have found it, and the people who changed the whole trajectory of my life, without the Internet.
Many blind people now go to their local schools. They are often isolated. They don’t often get to connect with blind young people like them to share struggles, tips and tricks. I worry deeply about the impact on communities of disabled people that are distinct but not geographical who will be dramatically affected by a social media ban.
Of course, many modern social media tools are no CompuServe. They serve content based on sophisticated algorithms designed to promote engagement, and disharmony promotes engagement. I completely agree with you about that fundamental concern. Where I disagree is that the blunt instrument of a ban for people based on age is the answer. First due to the points I have just made, but second, just because you’re over the age of 16, it doesn’t mean you are going to be able to cope with the consequences of these harmful algorithms. There are adults for whom the algorithms are causing significant mental health issues, and I am very concerned about that.
The answer in my view is to go after and regulate the algorithms, not ban people below a certain age.
I don’t think you are on Mastodon, but this, to me, shows what social media can be. An algorithm-free, open platform that no entity can ever own.
As I say, without being able to connect me with people who got me out of the depths of despair, I may not be here to write this to you.
I will keep listening, but I have felt a moral compunction to cancel my premium subscription, because I completely respect your right to campaign for those causes you care about, but I feel that this one will do blind people like me real harm, and I feel discomfort about contributing even in an indirect way to funding it.
Thanks once again, and if you have in fact read this and got all the way to the bottom, I appreciate that very much.
Jimmy
jacobian
Micro SF/F by O. Westin
Eugen Rochko