The most recent example is the tragic case of Phoebe Prince, a 15-year-old high school freshman from South Hadley, Massachusetts, who committed suicide in January after months of verbal and physical abuse from a group of schoolmates.  An attractive “new girl” who had recently moved with her mother and sister from Ireland, Phoebe is said to have aroused the ire of other students by briefly dating a popular senior football player, thus presumably stepping out of her prescribed social position.  Some of the bullying took classic forms: Phoebe’s classmates shunned her, called her names, and, during the last hours of her life, threw a Red Bull can at her from the window of a moving car.  Other forms of abuse took a more modern twist: Phoebe was allegedly subjected to expletive-laden text and Facebook messages insulting her and threatening her with physical harm on a several-times-daily basis.

Phoebe Prince

Are tragedies like Phoebe’s unavoidable byproducts of a culture in which all of us have unbridled access to one another via digital media 24-hours a day?  Is this just what happens when the universally cutthroat, high-drama, hormone-addled high school social scene stays open on Facebook and Twitter and MySpace long after the school doors have been locked for the night or the weekend?  And who, when the administrators of social networks do everything they can to maintain the privacy of their users, is responsible for monitoring the digital hallways in which Phoebe took so much abuse?

This case may turn out to set an important precedent with respect to future anti-bullying legislation, both online and otherwise.  On Monday, nine South Hadley High School students (two boys and seven girls, ages 16 to 18), were officially charged with a package of accusations, ranging from statutory rape to disrupting a school assembly, in connection to the death of Phoebe Prince.  School administrators, who were reportedly aware of severe bullying in the school and had some knowledge of Phoebe’s situation, have not been criminally charged.  This suggests that this early example may lead future cyberbullying cases to be considered lapses in personal responsibility, rather than lapses in adult oversight.

Obviously, instilling principles of kindness and humanity in young people should be our society’s first priority, and this should be the front line in the fight against bullying.  But should it be the totality of this fight?  What protections, if any, should be put in place to prevent abuse of the privilege of un-moderated, non-stop communication that social media offers us?

What do you think?

Now, it’s to be assumed that there would be those who would consider this comment rude and post retaliatory remarks on the page, but what really caused the outrage were the responses posted back by Nestlé.

Nestlé @Paul Griffin – that’s a new understanding of intellectual property rights. We’ll muse on that. You can have what you like as your profile picture. But if it’s an altered version of any of our logos, we’ll remove it [from] this page.

Nestlé Thanks for the lesson in manners. Consider  yourself embraced. But it’s our page, we set the  rules, it was ever thus.

Nestlé Oh please .. it’s like we’re censoring  everything to allow only positive comments.

Finally culminating in my personal favorite:

Nestlé This (deleting logos) was one in a series of mistakes for which I would like to apologise. And for being rude. We’ve stopped deleting posts, and I have stopped being rude.

Undoubtedly, most of the articles you’ve read have probably been negative towards Nestlé, scolding them for conducting bad PR and telling them that they’ve missed the point of social media. But I disagree.

I think most of the people wagging their fingers at Nestlé have forgotten what social media is all about. In the beginning, social media was a tool to connect and interact with your friends virtually, all the while, being yourself. Granted, the entrance of corporations and businesses into the social media space has changed a few rules, but they must remember why they chose to market on this platform in the first place. If it was merely to create a brand presence, then this isn’t relevant, but if it was to interact with their audience and create a dialogue that would make them relevant and current, then they’ve lost sight of their goal. As a consumer, I have no desire to be redirected to other sites, and if I wanted to read PR, I would find a press release. I seek out authentic discussion with the face of my brand as I’m sure most other consumers do or they may have not chosen Nestlé’s Facebook wall to launch a protest. With all that being said, I realize the importance of brand equity, and I do strongly agree that the person sitting behind your Facebook fan page should be the ideal representation of your company and brand. Maybe Nestlé didn’t chose that ideal person. Even if they did, social media is risky because people make mistakes, but if it will eliminate reading canned messages and mindless PR, I can be very forgiving.

The object of participation is to have a face-to-face interaction with a totally random stranger from somewhere around the world via webcam. Strangers can chat by typing into a large, IM style box which displays the usernames “you” and “stranger.” The “next” button offers a safe-haven of constant forward momentum. Either user can click on to the next random stranger at any time; simultaneously giving everyone involved the freedom to act however they want and the power to never become irritated or bored. (Yes, you will be nexted. Yes, it hurts sometimes.) Chatroulette has no login, thus you are not held hostage to any sort of accountability for your actions. No accountability + the thought of being “nexted”= internet pandemonium. People are compelled to be as entertaining as possible, which includes dancing, costumes, stupid human tricks, offering mystic readings, engaging in a game, or just being naked.
We spend so much time organizing the internet, keeping all of our social platforms neat and tidy with the right information, the right people, and the ability to view and take part of almost every interaction. Participating in Chatroulette means surrendering any hope of precision. On the one hand, Chatroulette is like a slightly addictive and sometimes unnerving sociological jungle; on the other hand, each interaction is like having a major part in a surreptitious happening. The experience as of now is often peppered with unwarned close-ups of the male anatomy, which begs the question: Will Chatroulette ever become organized, or would organization kill the attraction?
I think as long as there is no login, a.k.a. no accountability, Chatroulette can become structured into categories without losing its allure or integrity. Even if only two categories were created: “Nudity” and “Not Nudity,” user-ship would broaden as those too timid to risk glimpsing hairy-man-horrors would have no fear. However, think of the possibility of entering a Chatroulette channel based on things you like. Categories could be broad: Biology, Literature, Photography, Australia; specific: Canadian Haiku Lovers, LGBT Hockey Players, People Interested in Aldous Huxley, or anywhere in between. Interaction time and actual conversation would certainly increase, as the current average interaction lasts about 3 seconds, but is the incentive for Chatroulette real conversation, or is it that you have no idea what you are going to get?

While the U.S. and U.N. sputtered to acquire resources for quake relief efforts, companies born out of Web 2.0 or took advantage of social media were able to galvanize support and collect donations in break-neck pace. The Red Cross has already raised $5 million for earthquake relief through $10 donations via simple text messaging, and Google has contributed a $1 million donation of its own.

Other Internet big-names have seized on the crisis and have updated their services to go towards helping the cause. For instance, Zynga has raised $1.2 million using virtual goods in its games like Farmville, while Skype has sent $2 vouchers to customers in Haiti, allowing them to call their loved ones in the U.S.

Facebook, Google, and other tech giants are showing us they can create and galvanize global communities, take advantage of simplified distribution channels to acquire large amounts of money, and spark global discourse all for an issue, cause, or charity.

What these social media giants have seized upon is the concept “Good Social,” flexing social media capability for ethical and philanthropic efforts, but more importantly (yes, they are businesses after all) brandish their social media might on a global scale.

By helping out, social networks ultimately help themselves by portraying themselves as thought leaders in global community discourse, and all things social. Or so says my marketing background.

Of course, those familiar with China’s policies of restricting unapproved information and communication will not be surprised. Just two weeks ago, the central government had already banned access to most Google services, including Gmail, Google Apps, and Google Talk, claiming Google’s search engine spread “vulgar” content.

The people of Iran face a similar struggle. After Ahmadinejad’s much contested victory, riots broke out across town centers and suburbs. The Iranian government responded pretty much the same way as their Chinese counterparts did. Authorities blocked foreign websites, dissidents’ blogs, Twitter, and Facebook or anywhere criticisms of Iran’s political leaders may arise.

The situation on the use of social media is much different here in the U.S.; we have access to all social media tools, like Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn. We can freely contribute content on websites and blogs. We can search for information that may be critical of our government, institutions, and ourselves. We can socialize and connect with whoever we want, whenever we want.

However, that same “whatever we want, whenever we want” mentality seems to diminish the importance of social media. Our free access to all things digital has turned us into modern-day Caligulas. On a whim, we can see babies and cats dancing on YouTube, or read up on celebrity non-news. We participate in the most narcissistic of activities like “25 things you didn’t know about me” letter on Facebook, not to mention MySpace is a personal shrine dedicated to ourselves.

Do we deserve social media when our intent of use seems much less noble than our Iranian and Chinese counterparts? Do we deserve Twitter when we tweet about that state of our clothes, as opposed to the state of a nation? Is social media a right or a privilege?