In the spring of 1990, I called a girl 225 miles away and talked for 12 minutes. It cost my parents an additional $3.42 on the following phone bill. That was the cost of connecting with someone beyond shouting distance. And my desire to interact caused me to accept the charges willingly.
Today I could video conference via FaceTime, Skype, or Zoom for as long as we wanted at no additional cost.
During the summer of 1996, I submitted my demo reel to 30+ post-production houses in the Midwest. It cost me over $200 in duplication charges, VHS tapes, and postage. That was the cost of distributing unique content to a targeted audience. And my desire to promote my talents caused me to accept the charges willingly.
Today I could post it to YouTube or Vimeo for free and make it available to anyone and everyone.
Near the end of 2000, I purchased a 40GB external firewire hard drive to back up my PowerMac G4. It cost me $329. That was the cost of protecting my digital property. And my desire to insure against potential data loss caused me to accept the charges willingly.
Today I could archive those files in the cloud via DropBox or Google Drive for free.
Establish a connection to the Internet and you are empowered to connect, share, publish, distribute, promote, archive, and collaborate with millions of others at no additional charge. This is breaking news to no one, yet we are 30+ years into the Internet Age and relatively few of us are fully taking advantage. Instead of changing our approach to creativity and becoming prolific producers and self-promoters, most of us opt out altogether and leave content creation and sharing to the brave few. Why?
I think it’s due to feedback.
The word originated within the context of electricity more than 100 years ago (i.e., “the return of a part of the output to the input of a machine, system, or process”). Years later feedback was further defined by type: negative feedback referred to “that which tends to dampen”, whereas positive feedback referred to “that which tends to magnify”. The term’s application evolved in the 1930s to describe the “rumbling, whining, or whistling sound resulting from an amplified or broadcast audio signal that has been returned as input and retransmitted”). Audiophiles and aspiring rock guitarists are familiar with this form of feedback.
But the current conventional meaning of the word—i.e., “helpful information or criticism that is given to someone to say what can be done to improve a performance, product, etc.”—appears to have originated in the field of psychology during the 1940s and didn’t gain widespread adoption and understanding until the late 1950s. And back then if you were a creator or maker in desire of feedback you had to solicit it; you had to not only request it, but most often provide the means for it to be submitted.
Thus an artist with work on display in a museum or gallery would need to provide comment cards next to each painting or sculpture. An author with a book in the local library would need to publish an address to where letters could be sent. A director with a movie in theaters would have to supply surveys for completion and then arrange for them to be collected and forwarded. Of course, those old enough to have experienced these outings know these practices were rarely, if ever, conducted given they were too costly, too time-consuming, and too unreliable. Instead, what filled the feedback void were critics—subject matter experts accredited by an institutional authority (or sometimes self-appointed) and tasked with criticizing artistic output on behalf of the broader public. Think Siskel & Ebert.
For the majority of the last century, critics closed the feedback loop for the dominant content distribution systems. And they grew in popularity and status because the distribution platforms shared one common limitation: unidirectional content flow—i.e., from the creator to the consumer. But much in the same way the Internet eliminated barriers to entry and lowered distribution costs, it also enabled a low-cost means for the consumer to provide feedback. Namely social media. And in a world where everybody has an opinion—and most often believes theirs is the right one—we largely stopped regarding anybody else’s perspective as more educated than ours. In short, the Internet has made EVERYONE a potential critic armed with a real-time, worldwide publication device in the palm of their hand. Think cancel culture.
The revolution enabled by the Internet eliminated walls and fences in favor of landmines and trap doors. The fear of toiling for years and never getting noticed has been replaced by the fear of getting noticed and subsequently toiling for years. Thus in spite of all the technological advances it remains easier, safer, and perhaps even emotionally and mentally CHEAPER to consume content rather than produce it.
That’s the power of feedback.
