Dim Flight for BrightKite
“I will never join BrightKite. Ever. It’s not for me. Believe it or not, I actually value aspects of my privacy. I’ll let you know where I am, but not through that kind of service. As far as you’re concerned: I’m at home in front of my computer.”
I posted to that to FriendFeed a few minutes ago, reminded of the note that Eric Rice posted the other day: “My wife signed up for Brightkite and snarked immediately: ‘How the f*ck do I use it?’ Meaning: Isn’t it arrogant that sites just assume everyone knows how to use everything? Instructional design, indeed.”
To me, it’s not about the design of BrightKite that turns me off – it’s about the concept, itself.
- Other than my wife, does anybody really care where I am? Seriously?!
- Unless I’m going out to connect with a specific group of people (assumed friends), I really don’t need to “check in” with the rest of the Internet. If I do, I’m going to use the service that most of my friends are on – or communicate directly only WITH specific individuals.
- For the most part, I don’t care where you are – and if I do care, I’ll ask you.
- It’s a stalker’s dream come true. HELLO?!
- Do I need a specific service to tell everyone? You might care about what I’m doing, but why would I give up my specific location? It’s the same reason I never picked up on the Dodgeball meme.
If you like BrightKite, great – but there’s nothing compelling about it for me. You can bet that if I ever start using that kind of software or service, I’ll be supremely selective with whom I choose to add as a “friend.”




