Douglas Ireland

Tag: blogging

  • Why I’m Using Bluesky (Yes, I’m Still Blogging Too)

    For a few years now I’ve leaned into the idea of using my own site, writing slowly, valuing analog habits, stepping back from the endless scroll. Blogging felt like a quiet resistance to the noise of “platform social media”. So when I say I’m now using Bluesky, it might sound like a contradiction. But for me it isn’t. Here’s why.

    Ownership & Control

    I blog because I want control over what I say, when I say it, and how it is archived. Relying on platforms where rules shift, algorithms change, and data disappears makes me uneasy.

    Bluesky is built on an open protocol (the AT Protocol) which means it’s designed with data portability, user agency, and less corporate lock-in in mind. (Decrypt)
    In other words: if I decide Bluesky isn’t for me, I won’t lose everything I built. That fits with how I try to live: make low-regret choices, keep options open.

    Bluesky logo.svg
    Image: Bluesky logo, public domain via Wikimedia Commons.

    Quiet in the Noise

    I’ve written about resisting modern pressures, choosing slow movement, real life over performance. A social feed that feels frantic, algorithmically driven, purely growth-oriented is the opposite of that.

    Bluesky offers a different vibe: transparency about algorithms, ability to pick or customise feeds rather than being forced into a “for you” feed that is opaque. (Rival IQ)
    This means I can dip in, say something, connect with people without feeling like I’m on a hamster wheel of engagement, likes, and noise.

    Community, Not Consumption

    I believe in small acts of defiance: keeping a capsule wardrobe, being intentional about my media, using the tools but not being used by them. Bluesky, for me, feels more like a place where that is possible.

    There’s a sense of early-stage community, of people who are there by choice, not because they got sucked in by algorithmic loops. Some early analysis shows the platform has higher levels of original content and less resharing or viral churn than many alternatives. (arXiv)
    That quieter, more intentional energy is something I’ve been missing elsewhere online.

    A Bridge, Not a Full Shift

    Using Bluesky doesn’t mean I’m giving up my blog. Far from it. I still want long-form, considered writing, a place I can archive my thoughts, reflect on slow change, recovery, the everyday in a way that social media rarely allows.

    But I’m also okay saying: yes, I will use a social platform. Because I believe we can use tools in ways aligned with our values, rather than be wholly subject to them.
    If used thoughtfully, Bluesky becomes a space for connection, not consumption.

    If You’d Like to Connect

    If you’re on Bluesky too, you’ll find me at @douglasireland.com.
    Feel free to follow, say hi, or simply observe how this plays out. No pressure, no algorithmic rabbit hole.

    I’m using Bluesky because it aligns with many of the things I’ve been saying here, small acts of intention, resisting the noise, owning my presence.
    And yes, I’m still blogging. Because some things are worth doing in their own time, on their own terms.

  • Like Shit Off a Shovel

    I first got online in 1994. Back then, just saying that felt futuristic. Most people I knew didn’t have the internet at all. You had to dial in, literally. That high-pitched screech of a modem connecting was the sound of something new.

    We called it the information superhighway, and it really did feel like that, a strange and open road with no clear destination. You just explored.

    The web was small. Pages were mostly grey. Text was blue and underlined. If you wanted a picture, it took time to load. Search engines weren’t very good. But there was something honest about it. You were more likely to stumble upon someone’s handmade website or message board than be guided by an algorithm. It felt like wandering.

    I remember someone in my family trying my 28.8k modem for the first time. After watching a page load faster than expected, they leaned back and said, “That thing goes like shit off a shovel.” At the time, it really did feel like that.

    I spent time on Usenet newsgroups, where people held long, often thoughtful discussions, threaded and searchable. And I used IRC, where you could drop into a channel and chat in real time with strangers from around the world. There was something raw but real about it. No profiles. No bios. Just usernames and conversation.

    There was no social media, no feeds, no notifications. If you wanted to connect with someone, you’d read their post or their homepage and send them an email. Maybe they’d write back. It was slow in the best way.

    Now the internet is always on, always loud. Every platform wants your attention. Content is chopped into algorithms and pushed into your day whether you asked for it or not. People compete for visibility, likes, reach. It’s not all bad, but it’s a long way from how it started.

    I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. About how the internet used to be made up of small, personal spaces. And how it could be that again, at least in a quiet corner.

    That’s what I’m trying to build here. This site doesn’t run on likes or shares. I don’t have to post at the right time or follow trends. I just write when I want to. People can leave a comment if they feel like it. Or not.

    The difference is, I control this space. No ads. No feeds. Just a small corner of the internet where I can show up as myself.

    It might seem old-fashioned, but I don’t mind that. I’m from the dial-up days. And I still think there’s something worth keeping from that time.

    At the same time, I’m not anti-technology. Quite the opposite. I still get excited about new ideas and tools, especially AI. I think we’re only just beginning to see how it’s going to change how we work, create, communicate and learn. Used well, it can help us cut through noise, automate the boring stuff, and make space for more human connection, not less.

    So I’m not turning my back on the future. I just want to bring a little more of the past into it.