Compare a few significant social interactions in your life–especially if some of them are mediated by writing…especially writing on a screen.

I’ve always preferred writing to talking as a method of communication. I find that when we write, we’re more likely to actually transmit information than when we speak to each other. And as much as I enjoy chatting with friends for hours, when it comes to the less inane, it seems to me like a waste of time and energy to fumble around a topic instead of getting to the point. I’m often annoyed when an old classmate will call me and try to make “small talk,” when all she really wants is my help, and we’ve rarely spoken beyond that. Why is there a need beyond the original greeting to act as if she’s interested in what I’m doing? I know that she wants something, she knows that I know, and once we’ve covered the fact that we’re both doing well, there’s no need to inquire further. Of course, this isn’t always so, but it’s usually clear when a person is genuinely interested. I might come off as a bit jaded, but I’ve honestly no patience for it.

On the other hand, there are real friends, people who want to speak to me and to whom I want to speak, and those people I make a point of calling from time to time, or (preferably) seeing them in person. In those cases, inane conversation is really an important aspect of the friendship, and really very enjoyable. We’ll email and text message, too, of course, but generally, these relationships are in person.

I bring the latter forward now because I’d like to compare it to my online interactions with absolute strangers I have never met, and probably will never meet. (And no, I’m not talking about following the Dalai Lama on Twitter.) I’ve met these people through my online interests, generally on a fandom-related site, and they know me only by my handle.

My online relationships are fairly one-dimensional. While my friends in the real world know about my family, other friends, interests, goals, and everything in between, my online friends know about one particular interest of mine. Granted, they know far more about it than my real world friends would ever even care to learn, but they don’t know me, just that one aspect of my identity.

But my online interactions aren’t about getting to know other people. They’re about learning and communicating and delving deeply into whichever shared interest we have. Sometimes, they do dip into the real world- for example, one of the contributors on one forum once asked for help on a newspaper article she was writing on a certain topic, one my sister knows much about firsthand. I was able to connect them via email, and two completely unrelated people on different continents shared information. However, as a rule, I don’t ask for information unless if it’s offered. We’re united only by our love for a fandom, and that’s more than enough for a relationship so limited.

This topic doesn’t mention learning, but I’d like to address it, too, since it’s applicable here. I feel that when I’m speaking to friends in the fandom, I’m much more likely to be open to new information than when it’s taught to me by a real world friend. I think that I associate the Internet and my online friends with fun and enjoyment, and one of my favorite things to do online is to read essays written by online friends. For example, I took a class on mythology last year in college, and found that a topic that had greatly interested me before the class became far duller when taught in a school setting. But a few weeks ago, one of my fellow posters on one site took The Odyssey and The Iliad and compared them to the storyline for several seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (here, if anyone’s interested). And that I was much more interested in reading; and, in fact, for the first time since taking the mythology class, I took out my copy of The Odyssey to reread it. There’s a certain, more casual attitude in writing when it’s over the Internet (case in point: this would be far more formal if I weren’t writing it for an online course), and because of that, there’s far more openness to learning and teaching. It doesn’t matter that I’m still in college and half of my friends of livejournal are forty-year-old professionals; they read what I write and treat it with respect, like they would any of their peers’ work. On the Internet, a screen conceals us all and forces us to treat others as equals unless our online behavior makes that impossible. Without race, gender, age, or other external factors influencing our opinions, we really can teach and learn from each other with no reservations.