Jonathan Margulies: Anonymity and the online community

If you're a student of civic involvement, of political participation, of cultural communication -- or, for that matter, if you've taken any given course at Penn lately in Political Science, Sociology or History -- you're likely familiar with what it means to be "bowling alone."

Thanks to Robert Putnam and his well-circulated book of the same name, the term has come to find almost universal understanding in the Stiteler hallways over the last few years. It's a sociological metaphor, Putnam's way of telling us that Americans have been engaging each other far less frequently in the public sphere of late. They're not spending as much time together working on community issues. They're not breaking free of their work or home routines to enjoy recreation time with friends and colleagues. And, of course, they're no longer heading out to the alley each week to meet friends -- and foster community -- under the soft glow of fluorescent lights and an automatic scoring machine.

In short, they're bowling alone.

Until very recently, I was skeptical of Putnam's findings. While it's difficult to refute his basic suppositions -- even a passive observer of community trends can see that the Elks Club isn't a fashionable place for today's young professionals to spend their Tuesday nights -- Putnam's work suggests that the downfall of bowling leagues and fraternal organizations represents the downfall of the American community.

That's a difficult concept to grasp. The downfall of the American community. Assuming, of course, that such a thing ever really did exist (and that it contributed to our lives in a meaningful way), the end of the Mom and Apple Pie lifestyle, the lifestyle within which our parents' generation flourished, should concern it all. But somehow it doesn't.

I always thought that was because the college students of this nation knew better; they knew that instead of meeting an unfortunate end, the American society has merely undergone a remarkable transformation in the means by which it exchanges ideas and fosters the notions of community. Bowling leagues may be a thing of the past, after all, but Internet chat rooms are growing in popularity every day. Voter participation is down, and fewer young Americans are devoting their time to local community groups, but the growth of "new media" information outlets suggests that more citizens than ever before are taking an active interest in the events and personalities around them.

Sure, the technologicalization of civic life has met a few bumps a road, but more often than not it has provided citizens with a dynamic way to re-enter the public life. And now, Penn has entered the fray.

No series of events exemplifies that change more than the Stephanie Winters saga. Winters, as you may remember, is the Linguistics graduate student with a penchant for strong thoughts and even stronger words. Some of those words -- concerning her dislike of Palestinians and their need to, ahem, excuse themselves from an age-old conflict in the Middle East -- appeared on one of the University's newsgroup forums last week. The comments there started an explosive back-and-forth on both the The Daily Pennsylvanian's Web site and among a number of the Penn's minority communities, leading some to even demand Winter's removal from her position as a TA and even from the University altogether.

The conversation was energetic. Lively. Heated at times. But excepting Winters, few participants in that new-age back-and-forth so much as bothered to provide the one piece of information that would cement their ideas and contributions indelibly in the permanent record of thought -- they didn't provide their names.

Naturally, a few nicknames appeared, as did various combinations of initials and even a few final thoughts in the "name" field. But just as the Internet provides the unique ability for users to run and hide behind a screen name or a contrived identity, these members of the new, post-Putnam American "community" chose not to provide the one piece of information that could conceivably keep a conversation going after the computer was turned off.

That's where the new American community most significantly deviates from the one Putnam covets as a fading enterprise. Say what you will about the allure of a bowling league, but it's difficult to deny the benefits that come with regular, collegial fun in a pressure-free environment. Real, lasting communities -- and by that, I mean the friendships and interactions that make our larger progress possible -- are built far more often over a beer than over a 56K connection.

That era may be over, but a new one is dawning and the time is still there for the institutions that build and sustain our new fora to take a role in developing them as an extension of the larger community, and not a refuge

for those who want to add a few hasty words and move on.

The DP could start, by making online users register and use permanent identities during their feedback posts. The University could take a role as well, but making sure that its newgroups and message boards follow similar policies for identity verification.

Maybe it's not a cure-all for the problems that plague our society, but it would be a start. And, if nothing else, it may keep us all from spending more lonely nights in rented shoes.

Jonathan Margulies is a senior Management concentrator from North Bellmore, N.Y.

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