Time to do things differently

Over the course of this year, I have been getting increasingly uncomfortable with being present on social media. Bryonie has always been uncomfortable with social media, and never participated, but I saw its potential benefits for quarto and was happy to manage that side of things on behalf of both of us.

Things have changed.

Once, I actually enjoyed spending time on Twitter (does anyone actually bother calling it ‘X’?) It helped quarto to connect with what’s going on in the world of heritage, art and place-making, and build a varied and supportive network of practitioners, writers and researchers. The unique space that was Irish Twitter also gave a lot of joy, as well as a fair amount of hope in the future. But all Twitter’s charm and efficacy disappeared when it became subject to the whims of a petulant billionaire egomaniac with dubious political affiliations (to put it mildly).

I experimented for a while with Mastodon, which federated structure holds a genuine appeal, and with Bluesky. Without the algorithms, both are in theory much freer and more democratic. But trawling through the timeline to find something of genuine interest is, frankly, exhausting. Perhaps one or both, or something else, will prove a viable alternative. But I found myself simply less and less interested in giving any of my time or attention to finding out.

So, after talking it over with Bryonie, my New Year resolution is to delete all quarto’s social media accounts. We’re not the first to leave, by a long country mile, but it is definitely time to go.

I’m a little ashamed to say that leaving still feels risky. As a freelancer living outside the main urban centres, being on social media has felt like a necessary evil. But a growing part of me recognises this pressure to be active on social media as a lie. Our practice is centred on the value and power of relationships. It’s time we demonstrated our conviction that in-person connections really matter, that community is where power lies, not the 1%.

Of course, it’s unrealistic to go offline completely. You’ll still be able to engage with us on this blog, and through LinkedIn. But even as I type this, I feel a sense of relief, of liberation. Imagine the time I can claim back. For thinking, for reading, for creating, for being with people, and in nature.

If you’re reading this and fancy a coffee and a natter, ideally on a beach somewhere, please do get in touch.