By Firestorm
Working my way up in the ranks of the Online Energy Community when I did, I have an opportunity to make some interesting observations that, as far as I know, have not yet been written down in a formal manner. I’ve witnessed the progression of the community’s culture from a tight-knit group to a very casual, very unorganized mass of organizations, most of which aren’t even close to worth their salt. I believe that, by examining the differences between people who became part of the community years ago, and the current crop (which comprises at least 75% of the OEC at the time of this writing), the cultural divide can be better understood for what it is.
As a point of reference, I’ll pick PsiPog, circa 2003. Although I had been training as a psion for several years prior to that, that’s roughly when I began to consider myself part of the community.
In general, when a new user first joined the PsiPog chat (which was at that time only accessible though their own chat client), they chose at first to observe how the people in the room behaved. They spoke when spoken to, but mainly they just listened to the conversations that were taking place amongst those more experienced than they were. In doing so, they learned a great deal, not only about PsiPog’s culture, but about psionics in general. In more modern times, this has come to be called the ‘lurk moar [sic]‘ principle, whereby a new person is expected to watch and learn how to act before becoming an active chatter. That way, we learned quite a lot about psi from those who knew what they were talking about, instead of coming up with our own (probably wildly unsound and unfounded) theories and methods, like so many people do today.
Once we felt confident that I had a clue about how things worked, we became more active in discussions, but with one important step: we thought before we spoke. Call me crazy, but before I pressed the Return key, I took a few extra seconds to think if what I was typing actually made sense. If it didn’t, then I reconsidered what I wanted to say. I also looked over my statement and made sure there was at least some semblance of grammar. See, back in those days, the chatroom had autokicks set up for common chatspeak shorthand. For example, if one typed ‘u’ instead of ‘you,’ or ‘r’ instead of ‘are,’ they would be automatically kicked from the chat. Some today might see it as extreme, but it made sure that our eyes didn’t bleed because of people who just didn’t care enough to take an extra half second to make themselves appear literate. Seriously, you should try it sometime; it really does make you seem more mature and intelligent.
On those rare occasions that we did say something incredibly stupid, we fully expected to be verbally smacked because of it. That’s just the way it was, and we didn’t argue (much), because they were right. I’m not talking about making a mistake, I’m talking about saying something that’s just plain retarded. We didn’t expect to be coddled and given an award for effort; if someone was wrong they were wrong, period. So much of the fluff in today’s community stems from the mentality that everyone is a psionic god and can do whatever they think they can. If, when someone espoused some ridiculous and fluffy idea today, we responded with “No, that’s just not how it works,” instead of giving credence to every half baked technique that someone comes up with, the online community would be a lot better off.
The last major observation I can make about the Old Guard is that we respected our elders. The people in charge of various communities usually had many, many years of experience and training under their belt. We understood that they had more experience and skill than we did, and we acted accordingly. When they spoke, we listened intently. When they asked us to do or not do something, we generally acquiesced. Periodically, they taught us something useful or shared some nuggets of wisdom with us that made us better psions. And when one of them left the online community, we actually felt the loss of their vast knowledge. For me, the departure of annie/anniesocks comes to mind. To this day I occasionally think of her and wonder how she’s doing. That sort of respect seems unheard-of in today’s community, and that’s really sad.
Fast forward to today (late 2008 as I write this). Its hard to believe that in just a few short years, the community has changed so much, and most of it for the worse. The closing of PsiPog in January 2007, along with the departure of the wonderful, brilliant people involved with it was a serious blow to the stability and quality of the community. The server its IRC channel was once on, Darkmyst, is now inhabited by dozens of second-rate communities, most of which have just been created in the last two years. Some, of course, are better than others, but not one of them has the presence or the atmosphere of their predecessor.
Amongst the new batch of psions growing up since then, the culture is entirely different. New people come right in and push their own unfounded, unresearched speculations and techniques as fact, an action which goes largely unchecked by the staff of whichever organization they happen to be on the territory of when they say it. People are looked up to who should not be, while vast skill and years of experience go unnoticed and ignored. The idea that one should respect their elders and treat them with dignity is laughed at. These people, whom I affectionately call the Old Guard, are a rare and dying breed. Their knowledge and experience should be cherished.
I want to see The Psion Guild rise above what is now becoming the standard for online psi communities. I consider myself to be one of the last to be brought up under the old ways, and I have a simple request for the next generation: embrace them. The old traditions and culture might not have been the most friendly to those who weren’t willing to put in the effort, but the rewards were much greater for whose who were willing to listen. If you are at all serious in your desire to be a better psion, then you will find your answers amongst the relics of the past.