Where'd all the time go?

On 'platform time' and the present as a medium

Can you believe I haven’t posted on here in over a year? I can.

(Before we get into it: heyyy, it’s me, Matt—this blog just has a new name and a fresh coat of paint. More updates from me at the end of this.)

It’s not just about programming computers, but about programming experiences.

Time passes differently online, and I think we all kind of feel that. In 2009, “platform studies” really took speed as a field that explores the computer systems that support creative work.¹ In other words: how do digital platforms (like social media) shape the conditions for how we think, act, create, and relate to others? This begs the question: How does this shape our sense of time?

Memes go viral and vanish in hours. Trends cycle for a few weeks tops, and then become obsolete. A post from a year ago feels like it came from a completely different lifetime. This isn’t just a feeling: it’s platform time.

In his article The Present as Platform, Chris Ingraham explores the ways that digital platforms influence our experience of the present moment.² Online, “newness” is a commodity. You can’t miss a day on Twitter, my friends and I joke when one of us isn’t in on the latest niche meme making its rounds. Thriving off immediacy, the present is the medium that modern algorithms leverage.

The newness at issue here is the temporally new—that is, the unfurling of the temporal present itself so as to invite experiencing the present in the key of its novelty and micro-historical significance, even if only on a personal scale. (Ingraham 2020)

He goes further to illustrate this with the evolution of music curation. Mixtapes and CDs had material constraints—we were forced to be deliberate with each song, their order, even the cover. (14-year-old Matt was quite the loverboy and really shined at this.) Each choice mattered for telling a cohesive story, and actually shaped the experience of time while listening. (Like when my crush said she’d rather be friends by track 14: Radiohead’s Fake Plastic Trees.)

Contrast this with algorithm-made playlists that anticipate what you’ll like. You don’t choose the order or curate a story—it all just shows up. As I write this, my Spotify daylist is auto-titled happy indie coastal cowboy thursday evening (whatever that even means). It’s a curated vibe that is meant to feel fresh, intimate, and timely. Here, we can see how digital platforms pre-structure your feeling of the present—as Ingraham puts it, it’s manufactured affectability.

All this to say…

I’ve been reflecting on the speed at which I create things. Like many of you may relate, being an artist online is accompanied by this sort of present-tense anxiety…like if I’m not posting, I’m disappearing. The timeline moves so fast, and sometimes I fear that if I’m not contributing enough, then I’ll fall behind.

I propose slowness as an act of resistance in reclaiming platform time. It’s alright to let things simmer, and maybe not be in the hyper-present online—in fact, I find it really helpful to refill my creative reserve. Now, I love social media, I love memes, and heck I love my Spotify daylist. And, I think it’s important to be intentional about where we give our undivided attention. Maybe reckoning with platform time is an opportunity to find joy in all the fleeting online moments, and an invitation to slow down and create where it feels right.

Cache

Here are some things from around the internet I think you may like.

• The Fish Doorbell: Every spring, the city of Utrecht relies on users who tune into the canal livestream to ring the doorbell when they see a fish so a lock keeper can allow them to pass, all in an effort to maintain the city’s water quality.

• Corners of the Internet database: a communal spreadsheet of interesting and curious websites I started, which has over 120 contributions so far!

• Collaboration Cookbook: a living resource of recipes for creative projects by the lovely folks at Metalabel.

On Dig.site

I’m back on Substack!!!! You’ll notice things look a little different around here… This blog needed a refresh that feels more in line with my practice and interests. Dig.site is a container for me to collect scraps, signals, and online sediment. I have a lot of thoughts, and spend a lot of time behind my keyboard. All the things I unearth, I put here for you.

Keywords: internet, digital culture, technology, art, design, nature, data, systems, storytelling

Keep in touch here and on Instagram and Are.na. :~)

1. Bogost & Montfort (2009). Platform Studies: Frequently Questioned Answers. Digital Arts and Culture.

2. Ingraham (2020). The Present as Platform. Media Theory.