What Does "IRL (In Real Life)" Really Mean in Today's Digital Age? It's easy and reflexive to view our online presence as fake, to see the internet as a space we enter when we aren't living our real, offline lives. Yet so much of who we are and what we do now happens online, making it hard to know which parts of our lives are real. IRL, Chris Stedman's personal and searing exploration of authenticity in the digital age, shines a light on how age-old notions of realness--who we are and where we fit in the world--can be freshly understood in our increasingly online lives. Stedman offers a different way of seeing the supposed split between our online and offline the internet and social media are new tools for understanding and expressing ourselves, and the not-always-graceful ways we use these tools can reveal new insights into far older human behaviors and desires. IRL invites readers to consider how we use the internet to fulfill the essential human need to feel real--a need many of us once met in institutions, but now seek to do on our own, online--as well as the ways we edit or curate ourselves for digital audiences. The digital search for meaning and belonging presents challenges, Stedman suggests, but also myriad opportunities to become more fully human. In the end, he makes a bold case for embracing realness in all of its uncertainty, online and off, even when it feels risky.
I wish Stedman had reined in some of his anecdotes. The book reads more like his personal journey to find realness in his life and not identifying in the same way, I found it hard to pick out truths to apply to my own experiences.
This book was alright. Chris raises some interesting points, but ultimately leaves you without answers or solutions (in case that's what you're looking for); just a lot to think about...
The chapters are also quite long, and within them he takes a winding road to illustrate the points he's trying to make. Honestly, the plethora of anecdotes and quips don't seem to add too much value. In the end, I was just irritated I spent the time reading them.
I stumbled upon this book on the e-reader after getting it a while ago. I've seen (furry) friends and acquaintances online say how amazing this book is, probably because of the validation that Stedman gives to furries (which was honestly pretty base level stuff I've heard so many times).
Honestly, there were a lot of moments where I just got bored and didn't want to finish this. But I am stubborn and carried on. The first 25% of the book felt especially gruelling for me. The book isn't full of academic language or difficult theoretical concepts, far from it. It reads more as the kind of casual kind of reading that doesn't benefit someone like me, a Marxist and sociologist/historian. One review mentioned how Stedman doesn't really propose any solutions to all the different perspectives and dilemmas on digital lives mentioned in the book. I agree, but I also don't think Stedman needs to have them if the points are well articulated and don't have numerous, almost repetitive anecdotes of his own lives.
Stedman's background in theology and then humanist chaplain work makes it more difficult for someone like me who isn't spiritual or religious. The passages on irreligious people are interesting, how not so much agnostics/atheists but specifically 'nones' or irreligious people are at risk by losing the community spaces that religion (or social media) generally fills up. But I think it's a bit flawed, ignoring wider aspects such as austerity measures and the consequences of neoliberalism on community cohesion and consciousness that I think other sociologists and political economists have tackled in better ways.
The background also made it US-centric of course, but also felt a bit like the audience for this was US 'leftists' and 'demsocs,' wanting these concepts on social media and digital lives introduced to them. Stedman mentions his changing economic circumstances, but it's still *there* when a 35 year old is just meeting up with numerous academics and worked in Ivy League universities as a chaplain.
In terms of the interesting passages, I think having a more nuanced approach on social media and digital lives is good. Social media is so new, but also inhibits a lot of our own personal interactions before it, it doesn't become exclusive in the habits it perpetuates. Even with that kind of middle class appeal, Stedman still acknowledges the class (and racial) dynamics that allow people to 'turn off.' Despite this, the internet is something that came out of the US military and associated academics and a lot of things still reflect that and how, what became an almost 'free-for-all' for numerous marginalised groups in its early days, has become more commodified and disenfranchised by privileged groups.
I think for general audiences, it's a decent book. But for myself, I only found a few passages interesting and even then, not far off from things I already knew.
In its nuanced and thoughtful probing of the concept of realness (inspired at least in part by realness as a performative drag concept), IRL navigates a middle path between Internet cheerleaders and doomsayers to expand the boundaries of the binaries we call real and fake. I loved this sentence in particular, “If we let it, the Internet can reveal us to ourselves, all the posing and hiding we do, and give us a chance to ask ourselves who we really are, how we see ourselves, and how much of that is shaped by the scripts we’ve internalized. As a result, we have the chance to write some new code” (Page 4).
Can’t think of a better time to be reading this, as we hunker down for a more intense wave of lockdowns and quarantines, and digital connections become the only ones we have available to us.
It seems like the TL:DR is the author basically got tired of getting attention on social media for pretending to have the “perfect life” so he instead revealed his “imperfect life” in a dramatic fashion just to get attention for the opposite reasons. Humorously, using social media of course to push his narrative. Using the term “scabies diagnosis” is also weird because it makes scabies sound like some deadly or chronic disease. This is still mostly a well written book, I just found myself rolling my eyes through a lot of it. Its seems like it was written by someone in arrested development. Whoever was the editor did a wonderful job.
All the aspects of social media and being human both online and off in the book are things I worry about and I really enjoyed his witty, thoughtful insights all the way through.
He uses maps to great effect to make the point that they are both real and not real-- still useful as long as you pay attention to how you're using them.
But he argues against the folks who try to say social media is just toxic and makes you depressed. I totally feel those arguments too! - here are a few quotes in the book that resonated with me on that score:
"I sensed I was being judged through a collective lens made up by idiots," one person told me of their digital experience, "but there was no other way to look at myself."
"..."as though you're playing a slot machine that tells you whether or not people love you. ""
But I agree with Stedman in the totality of the book where he makes the case that it's just another tool for understanding ourselves and others and for trying to be human in the world.
He felt the urge to ditch social media completely, which I felt too, but he didn't leave either. As he says: "Even in my most frustrated moments, I don't want to abandon the world. I want to find a better way to be in it." That's how I feel.
The draw or importance of being online goes beyond addiction or likes in a couple of ways he explained really well. As an introvert, I think I shared the author's appreciation of the online anonymity, freedom, access to different peoples' experiences, and sort of clean slate it gives you. I could get past my quiet nature and speak freely. I could interact with ideas of human rights (off limits irl) and equality without the judgment or constraints of my conservative religious bubble that was my family, my village, my island of salvation in a world surely going to hell. I couldn't afford a misstep or the wrong kind of doubt in that in person part of life. Being online helps introspection and teaches us about being human - or it can.
An important distinction he made that people don't talk about enough was between deep play and passive play. You can get the deep play aspect by engaging meaningfully online or off - I have a few groups on Facebook that are uplifting that i would miss if I shut down social media. He gives the example of board games for deep play too. It's time you don't feel was wasted.
Passive play is that exhausting, deflated feeling of chasing those likes that never come, craving understanding and interaction but just yelling endlessly into the void. It's that addictive toxic thing social media critics are actually referring to in their screeds against wasting time, though they sort of imply that social media or screen time in general is only passive play.
Hard to take serious, someone who has such significant privilege in their life. A white suburban kid from the 'burbs. Yawn. No people of color, no diversity. Havin' tats don't make you one of us. What have you done to help us, in North Minneapolis? Nothin as usual. More white savory complex. I'd pass on this one. Maybe you whites could drive up rental prices more, thanks. Augsburg is lily white AF anyways. They all use us when they need us, then drop us like a hot potato once you don't. Don't act like we don't know. Go abuse more stimulants, white male privilege. Eat a meal.
Repetitive. Should be re-titled to: Finding Realness, Meaning, and Belong in Chris Stedman's Digital Life. The toxicity of online personas have been explored for decades now in the social sciences.
This book was pretty good and there were some sections that I definitely appreciated. I mostly felt like the metaphors that became the focus of entire chapters were a bit of a reach and got cheesy at times. The chapters felt long. I liked how it was part memoir and it was well-researched too.
Stereotype of the millennial narcissism in book form. An alleged grown adult; scabies diagnosis. Not to mention WELL, a social media site, has existed since BBS 1985. <3 Tony
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
i must start with a disclaimer: i generally hate self-help books bc the people who write them have no authority to be giving the advise they give most of the time. BUT i really wanted to help myself so the genre was unavoidable
ive spent years deleting and remaking accounts under the delusion that i will spontaneously cultivate a healthier relationship with social media, and guess what! that doesnt help! social media can exacerbate my loneliness and worsen my social anxiety but its also THE primary mode of connection in existence. so as im planning to move thousands of miles away from everyone i know, i really really need to start using it in a way that makes me actually happy.
in googling a million variations of "how to have genuine online connections", "how to use social media to combat loneliness", i came across so many books: books about how harmful social media is to our attention and psyche, books about the evils of social media companies, books about how social media is the source of all modern problems. but i knew those things already! i wanted to know how, despite all that, i could use social media for my benefit. so i was pretty excited when i found this book, because it recognized both the positives and negatives of social media.
initially i was a little bored with the author's personal anecdotes; i wanted him to get to the point already and tell me how i can better use social media, not read about how once upon a time he was sad! but as i kept reading i realized i genuinely enjoyed his stories and liked how he presented his research. i was happily surprised to find so much of my own thinking in this book. it was validating to know im not alone with these thoughts (esp as a libra with a sociology degree, i love to think about people but there is a healthy limit) in the end, i was hoping for a little more instruction. and yet, there were several moments where my experience with social media was so vastly different from the author (who has verified accounts and a fairly large following) that it was frustratingly irrelevant to me, so i wouldnt have been super receptive to his advice in that sense.
ultimately, i did like reading this book and i think its had a positive influence on me, but i was hoping for it to have a greater impact and to come out of it with a more solid solution. but i dont and thats fine apparently!
This is mostly a memoir of the author’s experiences reconciling his social media persona with the reality of his day to day life... with a parallel track of his journey of deconversion from Christianity.
Eloquently written, but gives no insight beyond general descriptive anecdotes on the contrasts between the online and “real-life” existence of someone who has reached internet celebrity status. From the description, I had expected a more detailed take on the evolution of connection and community in the age of the internet, but that is not the book’s focus.
This is very much a collection of semi-relatable anecdotes from the author’s life, not an analysis of current society in general.
It may be a relevant read to those who are actively followed on twitter, well known in the blogosphere, or who consider themselves social media influencers, etc ...but there won’t be much that resonates for those of us who live our lives in relative anonymity and use social media to maintain friendships or participate in online community.
This book is up there with Velvet Rage for me. There were some chapters I highlighted so much, I felt like I was coloring it. It is an intimate look at the author's search for meaning and belonging online, and he does so by sharing several personal stories from his own life and discussions with people like map makers, game makers and furries. I'm not much of a Twitter user--there are references throughout--but am a heavy Instagram user. Even if you're not hugely present on social media, this book will give you great insight on self and just how much the internet has changed not only how we interact with each other, but also how we develop our own self image. Highly recommended.
Not well written. Flits between a memoir and a dissertation. No good flow. Random interjections of his battle with scabies, his coming out, and his step dad’s Alzheimer’s. Didn’t answer the initial question he sought to answer in the first place.
This book takes such an empathetic approach to considering the question of online authenticity. It's well-researched, suffused with feeling, and thoughtfully blends memoir with reportage.
The first time I ever really felt at home was in an online forum. The year was 2008 and I signed up to play an online game hosted by my favorite author where the winner got a car. I didn’t win the car, but came away with a couple dozen friends—and a hundred or so acquaintances—that moved to a new web forum, then various other social media and Skype. Fifteen years later, my closest friends and my spouse all came from that group. That’s the power of online connections and that’s the connectivity that Chris Stedman sought to explore in IRL: Finding Our Real Selves in a Digital World.
By 2020, most people were familiar with digital social media and online interactions in some form. That’s the world that the first edition of IRL, published in 2019, was written in. But in March 2020, COVID lockdowns hit and suddenly our online identities became our only social identities. Now, after two years of COVID, the online landscape has evolved and a second edition of IRL speaks into that situation. Part memoir, part philosophy of technology, IRL explores the concept of authenticity online, helping readers navigate online spaces and live in their digital world in a way that leads to flourishing.
My main criticism with IRL would be its length. Part of this is due to an almost fifty-page introduction to this revised edition addressing the COVID pandemic. But even the main body of work can be too slowly paced and plodding at times. Stedman is consistent in his overwriting in both the philosophy and the memoir, so it definitely seems to be his writing style. For me, that meant that the strength of his points was occasionally lost amid the prose.
Stedman makes several great points about online existence, particularly the way in which online communities marginalized people to connect in ways not possible in real life. So many individuals lacking a like-minded community in their geographical locations found a home among their people in online spaces. He also talks about the dangers of social media to rapidly spread misinformation or create echo chambers or end relationships. While online relationships can be stronger, they can also be more tenuous.
Social media also gives people an opportunity to curate reality==to see only the things they want to see and share only the things they want to share. Finding a balance of being vulnerable while staying safe, informed while not being overwhelmed, appropriate while also being authentic, can be difficult and it may look different for everyone.
In the end, IRL is a sprawling exploration of how to live wisely in a digital world. Perhaps ironically, while the online world is known for its quick content and short attention spans, Stedman writes a slower, more thorough, and personal work. I honestly think that the work might have benefitted from being two separate volumes: one a memoir of coming of age in a digital world and another the philosophical musings of living digitally. As is, the two types of story fight for control with the book ending up feeling like two people talking over one another. Less memoir and more application would have made this book a bit stronger—not because Stedman’s personal story isn’t valuable but because he never quite makes it cohere to the topic quite as well it should have.
I went into this book after hearing the author on a podcast I enjoy. I was intrigued by the concept of a humanist chaplain, and I also have spent a lot of time thinking about how the digital world and specifically algorithmic social media impacts the ways that humans form a sense of identity and belonging.
The potential and synopsis of this book was much better than the actual book. Within each chapter, I struggled to understand the author’s flow of logic or structure. It felt like most of IRL was a coming-of-age story interspersed with random data points from the author’s friends’ books. The author didn’t really interrogate what meaning, realness, or belonging mean (contrary to the book’s cover art) until a very rambling and hard-to-understand final chapter.
I also was turned off by the relative lack of attention paid to the empirically-shown negative effects of algorithmic social media: loneliness, anxiety, depression, poor body image, political polarization, and outrage. It almost seemed like the author assumed benevolence on the part of tech companies providing a neutral good — rather than capitalism driving tech companies to extract profit and data at any cost. This oversight feels almost irresponsible to me. The final 100 pages was a tiny bit redeeming in this respect but it was too little, too late.
Aside from that, much of what IRL covered seemed incredibly obvious - we use internet slang in real life! People post curated versions of their lives! - and I was surprised this was published in 2020. It felt very 2013.
4 stars for an intriguing idea, 2 stars for execution, 3 stars overall.
When I picked up this book, I figured it was going to be about "touching grass" and trying to reconnect in our communities, or maybe the toxicity of online spaces. Instead, it read a lot more like an autobiography, with the author talking about being overly online.
At times he drifts out to real-world stuff, like his relationship with his father and returning to his home. But most of the time it's just him hanging out on Twitter and the book is mostly about him trying to justify that as being an expert on social media. I don't think it is. I think the book glosses over plenty of downsides to online communities, which is weird given it was published in late 2020.
Online conspiracy communities, chronically online accounts, and even excessive teenage smartphone use seems to be making people worse off. It seems like people are more depressed than ever, unable to find that realness and meaning. I would've preferred a book that went into these topics more, pulling from real research or case studies and creating suggestions for more manageable relationships to the Internet. Instead, the author seems to come away thinking that it's all fine. As such, I didn't find this book to be helpful nor valuable.
This book turned out to be quite different than what I was expecting, but I found several of the key insights beneficial and I appreciated the open and honest assessment of the topics. I suspect that some people will be turned off by some of the examples and analogies, so it's probably helpful to say that the author is a former evangelical and now a gay atheist, and he quotes Ru Paul more than the Apostle Paul. However, the quote provides a metaphor for much of the book - that we are born naked and everything after that is drag. The point is that our ideas of what is real, in our home or work place or online, is all a matter of who we choose to be and what we choose to reveal to others. We can be as fake with people face to face as anything we do online, but we can also find real connections with people online who can affirm our individual worth and help inspire us to be better and do better. After finishing the book, I felt like I would welcome the chance to sit down for a drink with the author, or maybe do a video call online, since both interactions could be just as real as we choose.
I wanted to love this so much but it just didn't click for me. I'm not sure if it was the slightly convoluted premise (not sure the memoir/interviews/social exploration mash up really gelled), or the unfortunately somewhat stilted prose (I can't count how many times I read sentences with an "As I sat down with X, they confirmed what I suspected about Y"), and the lack of micro-structure within chapters, but the insights I wanted to come just didn't.
However, there were some valuable gems that I enjoyed. Chris's notes about fantasy (IRL and online) serving as a way for us to explore what we want with lessened social stigma was fascinating, as was his insights in to the why of furries--of getting to explore an alt persona with different highlighted personalities. I enjoyed his chapter describing games and how they relate to our internet personas. I just wish Chris had created more through lines in his chapters.
Overall, I think this book would be valuable for anyone who's terminally *posting* online, as opposed to just lurking.
"At its best, our online play can give us the tools we need to become fuller, more complex versions of ourselves. To discover who we are and remember it."
This is simply one of the best books I've read on the internet and social media. The focus is whether our online selves are our "real selves," and Stedman thinks they are. Our use of social media allows us to explore and experiment with our identity. Yes, there are dangers, and we have to cultivate better online habits, but he reminds us that we are still in the early years of learning how to do all of this well.
I also appreciated the queer aspects of this reflection and analysis as well.
A sincere, even-handed examination of our ambivalent relationship with digital spaces and all their contradictions: how they connect and alienate, how they foster individuality and conformity, their simultaneous ephemerality and permanence. The strongest sections of the book are where it treads closer to memoir, and Stedman relays how he's navigated his own personal struggles via digital media, sharing heartfelt anecdotes that are both deeply moving and deeply relatable for anyone who's also experienced anxiety over building a meaningful, "real" life both online and offline.
This book touches on how we live our lives online more and more, if our online selves are "real," and how the Internet makes things better and worse for society. The author speaks about his own life, and how he sees how the Internet has impacted his life as well. I thought this book could use less of the author's personal life, and more facts about how Twitter and Instagram impacts society. Overall, a decent read.
Thoughtful look at how we connect online and how that compares to and interacts with offline connections and life changes. Found narrative a bit hard to follow at times, partly due to the many authors cited - bits that dealt with the author's own life and experiences (or related these sources clearly to those experiences) were the strongest for me.
This took me a while, but I’m glad I finally finished it. This has a fascinating look at how to feel real in a digital age and how our on- & off-line selves contribute to that.
As I started Chris Stedman’s new book on realness in our digital lives, the old Hair Club for Men commercial came to mind: “I’m not only the Hair Club President; I’m also a client.” The President would then pick up a blown-up picture of his previously balding head, as if to say, “I’m the real thing.”
Well, Chris seemed the perfect person to write this book and I the perfect person to read it, as we both could hoist blown-up pictures of our tweets and confess, “I’m not just Very Online President; I’m also a Client.”
In “IRL: Finding Realness, Meaning, and Belonging in our Digital Lives”, Chris explores that fraught, problematic, but also joy filled relationship many of us have with social media and online lives. His question is not whether online life is real but how.
His first drag show sets the stage: “There was a magic in the messiness of amateur night, its combination of audacity and naked vulnerability...The realness of drag is that it heightens, dramatizes and deviates in order to reveal.” Our digital lives, he argues, can operate in this reflective mode, helping us question what we have been handed, both online and offline molds which have not served us or told the truth.
Another prominent and important theme throughout-despite its pitfalls, the internet has given new voice and platform to those who have never actually been voiceless: ‘Marginalized communities are more able than ever before to map their lives online and document the things people in power wish to deny or erase.”
Chris engenders trust as searches for Online realness by confessing the limits and weaknesses of social media. He acknowledges correlations between depression and social media use, and the obvious problems of how social media has its own corporate overlords, with their own profit-based motives, which of course contributed to electoral and thus policy disaster for marginalized people.
Its not all roses, but Chris has hope for the meaning and belonging we can make online and I’m grateful to have him as a guide. If you are looking for this too, I recommend you read IRL. Life online can be real and good and developed into a rich fabric with offline life. A worthy challenge for a digital age.