This August will mark the 25th anniversary of Allan Bridge’s death and the subsequent wind down of the Apology Line, ending its remarkable 15-year run. In cooperation with the Wondery network, my wife and I are currently developing a 6-episode podcast that will introduce the Line to a new audience, and we hope, bring this one-of-a-kind work of art back to life, after lying dormant for many years.
When we look more closely at the virtual community Allan managed to build and maintain, it seems not only was the Apology Line far ahead of its own time but, in some respects, it still remains well ahead of our own. Apology was a virtual community that fostered and inspired trust among its members to an uncanny extent, which somehow managed to avoid many of the negative and corrosive tendencies experienced by regular users of Facebook and Twitter today. Its value rested not on the sheer size of the network but in the strength and depth of the bond it forged among its members, and the extent they were ready and able to lend succor and support to each other, even though they remained complete strangers. Allan’s achievements as a community builder were all the more remarkable in that he launched Apology at the dawn of the digital era, before the Internet had even come into existence, working with relatively crude technology – twisted copper pair wire and not-so-smart telephones – compared to the high-speed networks and microprocessors we take for granted today. And from start to finish, the Apology Line was the brainchild and masterwork of a single artist working alone in his loft apartment without the benefit of financing from venture capitalists on Sandhill Road or the vast resources made possible through the public markets. In fact, Apology flourished for 15 years largely without any external financial support, except for the occasional $5 or $10 donations mailed in by listeners.
In stressing the positive qualities of the virtual community Allan built, I don’t mean to suggest that the Apology Line was free from its share of darkness and controversy. Far from it. The Apology community experienced many of the same annoyances and challenges that have become accepted features on social media today – there were trolls and imposters, there were callers steeped in depravity; and sometimes the dialog between callers would degenerate into harsh personal attack. But somehow, even with all those obstacles and shortcomings, the Line continued to flourish and provide a vital sense of connection for its participants. It was a community that primarily nurtured a sense of resilience and mutual tolerance among its members rather than serving, first and foremost, as a platform for personal networking or constant self-promotion.
As part of this blogpost, I want to highlight the key qualities that Allan incorporated into the fabric of the Apology community, and which stand in sharp contrast to what we have come to accept as inevitable aspects of the social media platforms we use every day. None of Apology’s distinctive features alone is sufficient to explain the enormity of difference in the “user experience”, but somehow bundled together, I think they are key to explaining Allan’s success in establishing Apology as a consistently vibrant and positive virtual community -- one which, instead of breeding disillusionment and anomie, helped participants overcome their isolation and develop an enduring and meaningful connection with one another.
1. Apology was founded by Allan as an art project; personal financial gain was never central to his agenda. There were various times and ways that Allan tried to make money from the project – at least enough money to cover his expenses – but he always resisted any money-making schemes that he thought would exploit the callers or their stories. By and large, Allad earned the trust of the callers by consistently putting their needs above his own financial interests. (Just imagine how different Facebook would be if the same could be said of Mark Zuckerberg!)
2. The community was open but curated. Unlike Facebook or Twitter, there was a clearly identifiable operator of the system – Mr. Apology – who bore ultimate responsibility for whatever messages got played. In that way, Apology resembled a curated message board, although the curator invited critique and did not pretend to infallibility.
3. But unlike the curated groups we’re familiar with from Facebook and LinkedIn, Apology managed to draw participation from an incredibly diverse group of participants. The community was not, by definition, limited to members who shared a common and narrow set of interests. It was completely open to one and all – anyone who wanted to drop a dime and listen or leave a message. In this way, Apology managed to avoid the avoid the echo chamber effect we encounter in much of our social media usage. It encouraged people to listen to other points of view instead of reinforcing their own proclivities.
4. Apology was premised on preserving everyone’s anonymity (including Allan’s). An important inspiration for Allan’s approach was Catholic confessional, where the shield of anonymity is granted to encourage full and honest disclosure. Rather than making communication seem impersonal, anonymity deployed in this way served to encourage people’s willingness to speak openly.
5. On the flipside, because callers to Apology remained anonymous, there was no simple and easy way to insure the truthfulness of the messages that got played. In the first instance, Allan’s gut instincts provided a basis for him to exclude from playback any message that didn’t bear the ring of truth. Beyond that, what evolved was a community-based scheme of fraud detection. Sooner or later, other callers would begin to question the veracity of a caller’s story if it sounded contrived or fabricated, as happened, for instance, with the long-running saga of Richie the Serial Killer.
6. Communication was voice based and almost always spontaneous, not scripted. This was fundamental to the nature of the community. The human voice has unique qualities which make it that much easier for us to sense if someone is being honest or not; it provides the most reliable means for sharing deep personal truths. The voice is also capable of imparting a far richer range of feeling and meaning than can be conveyed in writing.
7. The Apology Line was episodic not a continuous channel of communication. In other words, the medium didn’t overpower the message. Callers could become obsessed with the Line and many of the them called regularly over its 15-year history. But even so, Apology wasn’t prone to abuse or overuse, nor were callers prone to addiction. What the history of Apology proves is that social media can be riveting even when it doesn’t attempt to monopolize or demand a participant’s continuous and constant attention.
Ultimately, a community is only as strong and resilient as the principles upon which it has been founded and built. Allan may have been something of an idealist, a product of the Woodstock generation, who was willing to place the consideration of collective well-being at the center of his community-building efforts. But the success of the Apology project over its 15-year lifespan demonstrates that such idealism can be both practical and workable when it comes to building a lively and sustainable virtual community. And in that way, Apology provides an important model for the next generation of entrepreneurs who are now facing the challenge of building new apps and platforms that will better embody and nurture positive human values in our networked world.