Facebook became the first social network I left. But back when it was budding, and I was enthusiastically inviting others to join me there, I thought of it as a place to congregate with those I knew, meet others I didn't know, and occasionally develop the same kinds of relationships I'd chanced upon in the traditional physical realm: varyingly intellectual, organic, abstract, intimate, and creative. I've always thought the great achievement of the Internet was to facilitate that across previously prohibitive obstacles.

While I still think Facebook does a handful of things best among leading social networks, I think it’s revealed that becoming that kind of place is not a genuine goal of it, and if it once was something it achieved in some measure, it’s become worse over time. I could return to Facebook today and use it more effectively than before, but I would consider that effectiveness a function of my "skill at taming it."

I focused on the megalopolis of Twitter for the same thing. I did manage to find a few consistently generous and admirable people, but this still felt like pecking for scattered seed in a large grass field. It feels clear Twitter doesn’t aim to be this type of place either.

When I joined Twitch to experiment, design a virtual studio for a recurring "show," and tune in to other broadcasters, I didn’t even think of it as a social network. Twitch doesn't even have text posts: no status updates, no tweets – just live chat rooms which expire after use. I think the only persistent messages are user-to-user, and my impression is that it's more typical for Twitch acquaintances to complement their audiovisual interaction by typing across Twitter or Discord before "resorting" to that.

But ask me “over the last two years, where have you met people from around the world that you've enjoyed having discussions with, just because they're them?" Not Facebook or Twitter, but Twitch. Ask me "if you had to pick one social network to select an acquaintance with whom to take a walk through the park, or have a coffee with, or visit their home for an hour or two?" Twitch. Over my first year or two participating actively, I've exchanged greetings with dozens to hundreds of people as either the broadcaster or a viewer. I'm sure I don't remember (or even particularly understand) everyone, and I'm sure not everyone remembers (or even particularly understood) me, but the exploration was enough to meet "Internet neighbours" from several continents whom I enjoyed returning to, and whose returns I enjoyed. I'm taking a few months' break from broadcasting, but the phrasing reveals I feel this break is temporary. I look forward to resuming largely because I look forward to small reunions.

As with every platform, there are elements of Twitch's design I just don't need or want. It's a business owned by Amazon and has plenty of paid features, but I've felt no enthusiasm for those and try to work around them. (For a much better experience in that particular area, I must give another mention to the independently-developed Owncast.) Since Twitch offers what I'd consider a full experience for free, I've spent my time settling within those parameters and optimizing things. But even with the extraneous noise, that primary quality of association with people glows appreciably, and I get the feeling that Twitch does indeed strive to nourish it.

Why do I think it succeeds to the extent it does?

Seemingly, some of this is because of the medium. Generally, Twitch is live interaction between a broadcaster, who is communicating by the use of audio, video, or both, and any number of viewers, who are communicating with the host and with each other by text. From the start, I saw the Internet as destined to create the illusion that people were interacting in person, and live audio or video takes one much of the way.

Seemingly some is because of the nature and spirit of the shared activity. Twitch grew as a gaming platform, and the main reason to huddle around a game with others is to enjoy it together. While Facebook and Twitter guide users to communally critique and protest things both mindfully and mindlessly, Twitch's channels, categories, and search features exist to guide users toward other users on the basis of shared appreciation. There's no particular restriction on criticism as the focus of a Twitch broadcast, and there's room for that too, but instances of it feel like novelties contrasting the established landscape in better proportion.

But mainly, this post is just to make the observation out loud: even as a "centralized, corporate platform," Twitch continues to do something important reasonably well, which people want, which is healthy, which is enjoyable, which can be enriching, which the Internet is for, and which Facebook and Twitter, as supposed leaders in this space, generally seem to fail at. Presumably they could do it better if they prioritized it more deliberately.