A David and Goliath story about Ireland’s role as prime real estate for the world’s largest tech multinationals, and the considerable impact it has had on us as individuals. At the start of the millennium, the Tech giants landed on Ireland’s shores. Dublin, once one of Europe’s poorest cities, became a beacon of Silicon Valley’s promise of progress and power. As the face of the capital was remade in the image of Big Tech, Irish society embraced technology like no other. Romantic Ireland was dead and social media was here to stay. In this provocative account, Aoife Barry explores the human cost of Ireland’s Faustian pact with Big Tech, from the local communities uprooted by Google to the traumatised moderators squirrelled in the capital’s pockets, keeping the internet safe at a terrible price. Unsettling, insightful, and wryly funny, she paints a portrait of a country addicted to the internet, refreshing the news, refreshing Twitter, scrolling and scrolling towards a feverish future. She turns an equally honest eye on her own life online, from her humble beginnings using dial-up in her parent’s kitchen to working for Ireland’s first digital-only newsroom, and asks what we bargain in exchange for life in the metaverse. Social Capital is the coming of age story of Ireland 3.0: set against the backdrop of the tech revolution, it chronicles how we collapse the boundary between physical and virtual reality, and where we might go from here.
I picked up a copy of Irish journalist and writer Aoife Barry’s new book a couple of weeks ago and found it to be a really interesting deep-dive into modern life online, with Ireland’s unique location as the hq of most of the biggest social media companies in Europe (Meta, Twitter, LinkedIn) as a backdrop.
Aoife talks about growing up in Ireland in the pre-internet age and how the internet has shaped our lives in the past twenty years. She gives a personal insight into the dark side of social media, telling her story of how she and a number of other Irish women were harassed online by a man, ostensibly because they had a presence on Twitter. (He was later prosecuted and served jail time for the offences.)
Aoife takes us on a journey back in time since the turn of the century, when social media really took off. From MySpace to Facebook, and from Twitter to Instagram and Tiktok, she touches on internet trolls, ethics, content moderation and internet addiction. She reminded me of some of the dramas online that spilled into real life (remember Bloggers Unveiled?) and some that had a worldwide impact (MeToo, BlackLivesMatter, among others).
Some of Aoife’s tales from the dark side of the web (not even the Dark Web, but the places you or I could readily access if we so wished) creeped me out, and reminded me of the bots and weirdos I block here on the daily.
I’m a big fan of the internet. I think it’s an amazing resource for humankind. I’m not that person who wishes their kids had grown up before the internet; I think its benefits far outweigh its downsides. Having said that, I’m a big believer in boundaries and in only being in online spaces that make you happy, and educating yourself and your children offline to equip yourselves for life online.
The bookish community on Instagram has opened up a whole new world to me of people who are every bit as obsessed with books as I am, which is a revelation. But it is a hobby, not a job, so life offline comes first, always. I don’t like Twitter or Tiktok so I steer clear - the former is too toxic, the latter is too addictive and much of a drain on my precious time!
The book, despite the grim tales, is balanced and recognises the sense of community many people get from life online. Much like Trick Mirror by Jia Tolentino and Uncanny Valley by Anna Wiener, I found it thought-provoking and absorbing and I liked the fact that it’s very much the Irish perspective. Recommended. 4/5⭐️
Finished this on the plane back from Budapest. I’d recommend this book solely because I have not seen another book that has analysed Irish internet culture, socials and our habits since 2000. Liked the chapters that dealt with relevant Irish internet culture like @bloggersunveiled, IBSA and the Irish discord server and Coco’s Law. Wider global issues covered like the BLM and American Presidential election chapters felt out of place like a digression from the focused analysis of the above subjects. While important to include, it felt like a regurgitation of hot takes coming from 140 character tweets which is hard to digest and contextualise in short chapters. Interview and tweet heavy chapters were extremely slow to get through at times.
The Silicon Docks chapter was so strong and poignant as it highlighted the impact of Ireland’s tech boom on communities in real life which I thought this book would focus more on? Poses interesting questions on internet consent, free speech and if Facebook/Twitter were created in the EU what laws on free speech would be introduced.
A cautionary tale of how social media was, is, and can be toxic. I liked the book, made me think of the days of Bebo where everything was fiiiiiiiine. But great analysis of what it is to be on Social Media and the tech giants takeover. Listened on audible and was a pleasant listen.
A thoughtful examination of Ireland’s relationship with the Tech Sector, both in terms of the effect it is having on Irish society, but also in terms of what tech is doing to us as individual citizens. Having thrown off the shackles of one religion in the form of the authoritarian Catholic Church that dominated it for most of the twentieth century, Ireland over the last decade appeared to be genuflecting to a new, more secular master in the guise of ‘Big Tech’. It is this power dynamic that Aoife Barry tries to explore in “Social Capital”.
It can be hard to move these days without stumbling across stories on the dystopian effects of A.I. or how social media platforms are collapsing under the weight of conspiratorial hate speech and the idiocy of their owners. So, it is somewhat refreshing that Aoife Barry reminds us of some of the life-changing benefits of Tech (for example, what she describes as the “pockets of the internet full of strange joy”) but without descending into blinkered, pollyannaish tech-utopianism. As Barry describes her early tentative steps into the world of the web 1.0 in the late 90s, it is difficult not to feel wistful about what she describes as those “careful early days (of the internet)” that now, with the benefit of post-2010s hindsight, feel “like a moment of collective naivety”.
This is the central dilemma explored throughout “Social Capital”; as Aoife Barry asks, “how could we keep hooked into the internet, and all of the useful, titillating and life-changing content it provided us, while being cognisant of what it was taking from us, too?”. The most affecting – and effective – sections of “Social Capital” are those where Aoife Barry relates her personal ambivalences about internet culture, not least her own distressing experience of online harassment (in a case which resulted in the troll who was stalking her being sentenced to a stint in prison).
Barry is hugely illuminating on the world of Tik-Tok and its enigmatic algorithm (a platform that is terrifying impenetrable to a middle-aged hack like me). Her interviews with the unfortunate souls employed as content moderators by the tech giants – the real, unheralded ‘canaries in the coalmine’ of social media – are also fascinating and empathetic.
However, given the title of Aoife Barry’s book, I would have liked if ‘Social Capital’ had talked more about Ireland’s dependence on the multinational tech sector, and the potential warping effect that sector’s influence is having on public policy in my country. But, perhaps, there is another distinct book to be written on that thorny topic. If so, and based on her expertise of Big Tech demonstrated throughout “Social Capital”, Aoife Barry would be a worthy candidate to write that story.
This book is an insightful and layered look at how social media has evolved from its early days to the complex, emotionally charged ecosystem we live in now. Though the focus is Ireland, the author cleverly places it within a global context, after all, Ireland isn’t operating in a vacuum.
I found the discussion on how the different platforms (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, TikTok) contributed to the journey in different ways interesting. What seems to be a common theme among these giants is that they see themselves as ‘platforms’ and not ‘publishers’ hence they have resisted taking responsibility for content posted on their platforms. Barry examines 'what might such guardrails look like?' It feels impossible to mark a clear line between free speech and inappropriate content, given the complexity of social, cultural and personal interpretation. While this is not a new challenge, she emphasizes how social media has cranked up the volume and intensity of its presentation into our daily lives, creating a greater sense of urgency to resolve the matter.
I found it a balanced account, where the author focuses on both the positive and negative outcomes of life online. I enjoyed the discussion about how “being online is gamifying your life”; the idea that you are playing a persona or a character of yourself. Why not? There is often criticism on the authenticity of doing this, but I agree with Barry that it can be fun and is a new form of storytelling about our lives.
The emotional toll of online life was well illustrated with stories and legal cases, including her own, and touched on topics like the weaponization of social media by terrorists (and by contrast its use to support care during natural disasters), the rise of anonymous “keyboard warriors”, the channeling of deep hate and death threats towards influencers and lastly how social media doesn’t discriminate between genuine or toxic feedback. To me this has always said more about humanity and what we do behind closed doors, than about social media. It is ourselves we need to look at, not at the tools.
It did pack in a lot of information; it could probably have summarized a little more in parts and I feel it lacked a thread pulling the whole book together. Having said that, it is suburb research, a great conversation starter and a well worthy read, or listen in my case!
I didn’t recognize any of the big Irish influencers she mentions, which made me realize how small and confined my own little Instagram bubble is, focusing mainly on books, hikes, science/nature and space! That’s enough for me.
This book gives an overview of the Internet from the personal perspective of the author, from posting on early internet forums, moderating a group online to finding community and eventually harassment on modern social media. It was harrowing to read about the experience of being targeted and going through the litigation process and it must have been difficult to write about.
It's difficult to know what the message of the book is ultimately about. I think it's a celebration of the opportunities the Internet can create, tempered by stories of its abuse? The title and cover art led me to believe that it would focus on the economic impact of Internet-based tech companies in Ireland, and how it has led to the exploitation of the country and exacerbation of its housing crisis. That topic is only touched on in the final chapter, and not in great depth. I also thought there might be an examination of the cultural impact of the Internet on Irish culture and social life, but outside of stories of high profile trolling incidents, not so much.
Most chapters detail how harassers use popular social media platforms to target users, and the feeble attempts by those platforms and law enforcement to stop it. The conclusion of these chapters is "this was bad, but also the platforms gave people the opportunity to band together and find community, so who knows?". Some more teasing out of the subject matter would have added some depth to the topic.
There was discussion in the early chapters of Internet history and how we got to where we are. Because this was through the lense of the author, it skipped over some interesting phases and subcultures of the Internet that she may not have experienced e.g. fandoms, activism, vlogging. The picture it gives of the Internet is only one small slice of the huge pie.
Overall, it was a interesting topic for a book that maybe spread itself too thin over multiple aspects that didn't really go into much depth on any of them.
Full disclosure this reviewer does have an indirect connection with the author. That said, I found this an engaging read, especially as being a bit older I'm not as wedded to my phone and "socials" as she is.
This book focuses on the history of the social media and overlapping smartphone eras and combines global, local and personal perspectives to build its narrative. It's very focused on the effects, benign and otherwise, on people. Given the wild west aspect of the internet since the advent of Web 2.0 it's unavoidable that there's a greater weight to the negative aspects than the positive, but she doesn't ignore the positives either, this preventing this from being a very gloomy tale.
To me, the most engaging chapter is the final one, which explores the changes in the physical landscape driven by the influx of the tech companies into a relatively compact area of Dublin and their effect on the local residents. I liked the way that, despite a clear-eyed view on the negative impacts on people, complete with first hand accounts, the book closes on an optimistic note from the local community.
Well worth reading to understand the societal changes wrought by the internet in general but especially from an Irish perspective.
A different dimension was added to this because the landscape of social media has changed so much There's an entire chapter about moderation on Meta products which seemingly they are going to give up on all together Elon buying Twitter (mentioned before the book starts as this released a month or so after) and doing what he's done there
Best part of this was hearing people affected by social media and online culture (those moderators, the people who are abused online, which included the author and a group of women in Ireland)
More of a 3.5, really shines when the author talks about her personal experiences of growing up with the internet and the section on online harassment stands out, some of the other chapters that rely more heavily on interviews with people in other fields can be a bit dry.
The more I find out about social media, the less I like it. Aoife Barry's book catalogs the cons (and increasingly fewer pros) of this giant experiment being conducted by private companies for profit. Particularly of interest is the Irish angle of its impact which Barry covers well.
Excellent examination of the impact of tech in Ireland. Barry's style is informative without being dry and full of interesting personal and expert points of view. A great read!