Itâs happened to us all in the last few weeks. There you are, scrolling through Instagram minding your own business, when that little pop-up window appears, informing you with some urgency that an account you follow is going live. Without even thinking, you click it, only to find yourself in a dark virtual room with a human you met in passing at a party three years ago. And theyâre reading Moby Dick to their cat.
Since shelter-in-place orders came down, the uptick in live events on social media has been a double-edged sword. The people rushing to fulfill our increased desire for virtual social connection fall into two clear categories: those who strive to deliver, whether it be through interviews, music, comedy or instructional classes. And those who simply phone it inâthe folks that go live while cleaning their kitchens, or sitting on the couch eating snacks, or casually chatting to their spouse in a directionless manner. All of which pose awkward etiquette conundrums for the rest of us.
âUnless you are Beyoncé, going live just to go live is probably a terrible idea,â says Carly Severn, KQEDâs senior social media strategist. âSurprisingly early on in this shelter-in-place, I didnât dare touch the top third of my phoneâs screen for fear of being catapulted into somebodyâs jam session. Or worseâtheir two-glasses-deep Q&A.â
Under the current conditions, for every nice surpriseâlast Saturday, I spent an hour âtwo-stepping in the kitchenâ to a mood-lifting DJ Jazzy Jeff setâthere is a sigh-inducing disappointment. Like the Bay Area record store that went live over the weekend, camera zoomed in on decks like a DJ set was imminent, only to throw on a David Bowie album and wander off. (They know we can all just do that ourselves with YouTube, right?)
âThe point of what makes a good live broadcast hasnât really changed,â Severn explains. âEveryone doing this stuff should absolutely still ask themselves, âWhat do I want to achieve here, who am I doing this for, and why would they want to watch this?â And they should unplug their router until theyâve asked themselves those questions.â
Itâs not just non-famous folks putting out dull live content either. As a die-hard Broad City fan, when I saw that Abbi Jacobson and Ilana Glazer were broadcasting live together on Sunday night, I rushed over to the feed expecting some much-needed hilarity. Instead, I was greeted by the sight of Glazer flossing and then brushing her teeth, while the women discussed the minutiae of their days without a thought for anyone watching. Jacobsen even repeatedly stated that she kept forgetting that thousands of other people were there. (We probably shouldnât have been.)
Ilana Glazer brushes her teeth while Abbi Jacobson and nearly 4,000 other people watch on, bored out of their minds. (Instagram @abbijacobson )
At least with famous people though, itâs easy to duck in and out of a live feed at will. When itâs someone you know, and there are only a handful of other people watching, the stakes are both higher and a lot more awkward.
âAs with a real-life party, leaving an online event when youâre one of two attendees (or when your departure will be noted) is a tricky beast,â Severn says. âEven if youâre leaving just because youâre so bored you want to cry, I recommend leaving a short and sweet parting message before virtually hightailing it out of there. If you get really desperate, pull the plug and follow up after, pleading internet trouble. Note: Do NOT overuse this excuse!â
Lina Blanco, digital engagement manager for KQED Arts, believes the key to engaging live content lies in the following:
Showing folks something unexpected; Making people feel acknowledged and seen, and; Asking questions of people tuning in and reading out their responses.
Severn agrees. âThe best live-goers are attentive, proactive and responsive, and also relaxed and happy,â she says. âThe warmth and humor you get from watching folks who really enjoy talking to each other makes the audience feel like theyâre there too.â
As we all learn to navigate the new normal, mistakes are bound to be made. But it should go without saying that having a captive audience doesnât magically make banal content exciting, or everyday activities more interesting to watch. If you value your friendships and want them to survive social distancing, think twice before hitting that live button. Just because you can doesnât mean you should.
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