I thought I could resist jumping into the fray on this one, but this story just keeps getting better and better.

Have you ever heard of the service called Clinical Reader? Apparently it’s a new service that acts kind of like a feed reader, only they decide which feeds you read, and it’s aimed at the medical community. The salient facts here being: 1) it’s new, and 2) nobody had heard of it. Until this week.

This week they used twitter to threaten legal action against a blogger, explain that they’d overstepped and let some unknown junior colleague too close to the keyboard, argue with the blogger and her ever-growing posse, apologize to the blogger, and now send out bogus retweets.* (See the chronology below for the gory details.)

What fascinates me is how quickly (in the space of four days) hundreds of people have gone from knowing nothing about this service to being pretty sure that everyone at Clinical Reader is completely insane. The social web can be an incredibly rich marketing arena, but it has zero patience for companies that get stuff wrong, and it rather delights in calling out this kind of behavior. This is the flip-side of crowd-sourcing, and companies and libraries hoping to harness online social networks would do well to watch this real-life parable unfold.

Chronology:

The story is way more interesting if you see it unfolding, so here are the best places to get it in kind of chronological order. This blog-version of the summary is necessary because Twitter itself is kind of difficult to reconfigure in a way that makes sense after the fact, and because Clinical Reader has started deleting tweets. Oops.

1. Nikki noticed some less than ethical aspects of Clinical Reader’s site (which now includes edits linking to the apology she received)
   
2. Steve summarized day one of the saga
3. Nikki gathered together links to a bunch of stuff that happened after Steve’s post.
4. The RT shenanigans begin, but these need more space, and screenshots, so here we go…

Clinical Reader went wrong in two completely wrong ways with the retweeting. (By the way, read each of the screenshots from the bottom up, because I forgot I should reverse the order and don’t feel like fixing it now.)

First, they thanked people for retweets even if the people had never retweeted them.

Then they seem to have completely made up tweets to retweet.

Amazing. Pardon me while I go pop some popcorn and settle in for the amusing ride. You can follow along on FriendFeed if you want.

P.S. The founder of Clinical Reader now says: “I have taken control of this account & parted company with former acquaintances in Canada whose behaviour I can only describe as schoolboy” (cite), and he is now apologizing to people. [The following sentence is apparently no longer true... which is ironic, since I was poking fun at Clinical Reader for misunderstanding how it works: "The problem is, he doesn't realize that if he starts with one person's name, there's no guarantee that everyone else will be able to see what he writes, since Twitter only lets you see messages directed at mutual friends." Further testing reveals that the other people would be able to see this message if they clicked on their @[username] page but not in their main Twitter feed. So, still weird, but not as egregious.]

* For those who don’t use Twitter, RT means “retweet” and is a way to redistribute something somebody else said, complete with attribution. It’s very much like a cited quote in a paper, only with links. So if I say “Something Clever” on Twitter, somebody else could say “RT @ijastram – Something Clever” which means “retweeting Iris Jastram who said ‘Something Clever,’” and the “@ijastram” part automatically turns into a link to my tweets. Quotation and citation in 140 characters or less. Pretty slick.

LSW as a whole is kind of opposed to rules, but like any ecosystem some order appears out of the chaos after a sufficient amount of time. I find this process fascinating, so I thought I’d start a list of the social norms (from the trivial to the foundational) I’ve observed in the LSW Meebo Room (listed in mostly random order).

• You can change your nickname by right-clicking on it in the room’s roster. Most people do, and it’s totally up to you, but expect people to ask you your real life name or place of employment. There’s very little anonymity in this room.
• People like to greet you as you enter and bid you farewell as you leave. They like it if you give them warning that you’re about to leave and then hang around for a bit so they have a chance to send you off in style… or at least send you off.
• Don’t worry if the conversation doesn’t stay “on topic” (whatever that is).
• Don’t worry if the conversation lags. Think of it like your living room on a quiet night… you know how it is. Somebody’s reading, somebody’s watching TV, and every once in a while somebody says, “Hey, guess what I just read,” and you talk about it for a bit and then go back to what you were doing. LSW is this living room.
• You aren’t obliged to look at all the pictures or watch all the videos in the media window. Just close the window if it bothers you and click the links to the things that interest you (I do).
• Assume we all know each other. And assume we all like each other. (Many of us have hung out there for well over a year, now.) Read everything with this assumption in mind, and share things with that in mind.
• It’s ok to ask questions and get help with everything from reference questions to technical questions. Basic questions are just as welcome as advanced questions. Really. I promise.
• It’s not ok to force people to respond to your comments. Either people have stepped away from the keyboard for a bit and the conversation moved on, or they just didn’t want to respond. If you didn’t get help with a question, though, ask again (especially if new people have entered the room).
• No TV spoilers! We come from many time zones, remember.
• If you have really personal stuff to share, try using the private IM function (right-click on the name of the person you want to talk with).
• If you want to show the room off at a conference or other public place, please stop by and give the room some warning so we can cleans the buffer if necessary. Things aren’t always neat and tidy in our room and we want it to look its best for company.
• It’s a great place to vent and get help with frustrating circumstances, but don’t sabotage your own career, please.
• Sharing food or beverages is always encouraged. If you don’t know how, just ask.
• Use of the Pacman emoticon is strictly prohibited… at least when I’m around. It’s the only thing I hate about the room. Any of the other emoticons are fair game, and are quite fun to play with.
• The room tends to be full of hard-working, intelligent, and generally cool people. Enter, know yourself to be a peer, and don’t be shy. We really are happy to see you.
• Remember, there’s a buffer of about 100 lines of chat transcript that newcomers can read when they enter. Don’t say anything you wouldn’t want to have show up in that buffer.
• Library folks from all kinds of libraries hang out there and genuinely respect each other’s work. In fact, Respect is the currency of highest value, edging above Fun by the narrowest of margins.

We in library land spend a lot of time talking about the “social” web. We create Facebook profiles, MySpace pages, sign up for Twitter, and let people know what we’re thinking by writing blog entries, commenting on blog entries, and IMing each other… and that’s just scratching the surface. There are more social spaces online than any one person could possibly keep up with in a lifetime. And they serve several distinct (and sometimes conflicting) roles. We talk about wanting to seem more relevant and approachable, inserting ourselves were our patrons are, “personalizing” the library. We also use these tools to build our own professional networks, exchange professional wisdom, troubleshoot problems, give encouragement, and just plain hang out with each other. Beyond that, I’m sure lots of librarians have a personal space or two online where they can connect with friends and family on a less-library-related footing.

I don’t know why it continues to surprise me, given the shear volume of interaction, that the social web is more than just social. It’s personal. I don’t mean “bare the hidden secrets of your family” or “gossip about people” personal. That’s almost never advisable. No, I mean “act kind of like an extended family” personal. For someone who’s never had boatloads of friends (being content with a few really good ones), I hadn’t expected to develop such close ties with people I’d never seen in real life. I still marvel that several of my very best friends don’t know what my voice sounds like when I’m excited, or have never decoded the set of my jaw and realized that I’m concentrating.

Even so, some of these people know me better than my extended family does (and mine is a fairly close-knit extended family). They know when I’m bursting with good news, when I’ve had a rough day, and when Pippin has snuggled in for a good cuddle-n-purr session. And what really gets me is this: they actually care to hear these things, just like I care to hear about similar things from them. Personally, I can’t imagine most of my cousins being interested in that kind of information.

This kind of personal affection and interest was highlighted this week when somebody in one of these social circles was killed in a car accident. I didn’t know this person at all. Our two circles overlapped, but we’d never “met.” And yet, the ripples of the tragedy spread quickly as the woman’s friends expressed shock and disbelief and spread this to their friends, who spread it to their friends, and so on. Very quickly, an entire social network seemed to have slowed to a crawl as everyone lost the will to share trivial thoughts in the face of such events. (The woman was young… my age, in fact, with very young children.)

And that’s when I realized that the social web is more than social. It’s personal. It’s intimate. And it is immensely powerful, though not necessarily in the way I’d thought before. It’s not enough just to “be where the patrons are.” I’ve never thought that sounded right, somehow. I’d hear that phrase and imagine it being like standing in the lobby of a dorm feeling foolish and not doing anyone any good. No, being involved with an online social network more than that. And if we don’t admit that to ourselves, I think we set ourselves up for stress, anxiety, and disappointment.