...Setting, Communicating, and Enforcing the Rules - Page 2

He liked cheese.

That's all I knew about "Dangerman" when he posted to my personal site (http://www.powazek.com). He liked cheese.

Unfortunately, he posted that comment to a long, emotional story I'd told about growing up. My twenty-eighth birthday was on its way, and I'd grown nostalgic for my college days. I wrote: "So I'm sitting here on this rainy Friday, in an apartment in San Francisco, almost 10 years later, looking out over the rooftops of the city. I'm wondering if 10 years really is a long time or not. I'm wondering if this is the kind of melancholic nostalgia that old people feel."

"I like cheese," he posted.

Cheese.

So I deleted the post. It was easy enough to do. And it seemed so clear--everyone else was posting appropriate comments to my stories. He must have been confused, or perhaps he had a screw loose. In any case, it was my site, and the post was inappropriate, so I deleted it.

And, in doing so, I walked into a trap I should have seen coming.

The post reappeared a few minutes later. "I like cheese." I deleted it again. The poster wasn't leaving an email address, so I had no way of contacting him to explain the problem. Instead, I banned his IP address from the system, so he would be unable to post again. Then I went to sleep.

That night, Dangerman's friends started showing up. And they, too, liked cheese.

"I dreamt of cheese."

"Cheese is in!"

"I like cheese too. Cheese rules."

This was war.

I deleted all the posts, banned all their IPs, and closed off the thread. Eventually, I got to Dangerman's site to find my site, and my person, being burned in effigy. Bravely (or perhaps stupidly), I posted there, myself. I politely explained why I had deleted the posts and was resoundingly booed off the stage.

Lesson Learned

In the wake of what has become lovingly known as The Great Cheese-Off of 2001, I began to reevaluate the cues my site was giving to users. It's true that most people had been able to figure out what was appropriate and what wasn't without much guidance from me. The only verbal cues I'd provided were a disclaimer right above the posting button. It said:

This is my personal site. It's like my living room. I don't let anyone come into my living room and say whatever they want. Posting to my site is a privilege, not a right. If you post inappropriate things, they will be deleted, and you will lose the ability to do so in the future. In other words, be nice. Thanks.

While this seemed pretty clear to me, it was obvious that it wasn't doing the job. So after some reflection, I made two changes to the user experience of my site.

Change 1: Change the disclaimer

First, I changed the disclaimer above. Even though I felt it was perfectly clear before ("If you post inappropriate things, they will be deleted"), that statement was getting lost in the text. Also, it never defined what "inappropriate things" were.

The new version was:

This is my personal site. It's like my living room. I hope you'll come in, have a seat, and be cool. But if you're not and you post something off-topic, mean, or just plain stupid, I will delete it and kick you out. I reserve the right to delete any post for any reason. I also reserve the right to believe that people are essentially good, in spite of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. Thank you.

In addition to defining what the verboten behavior was ("off- topic, mean, or just plain stupid"), the line in bold was the most important touch. The new phrasing was much more direct, and the bold made sure it was hard to overlook. And the whole disclaimer was placed below the posting form and above the button that users would click to commit to their post. Its placement was designed to make it hard to ignore.

Design for Community
Change 2: Get An Email Address - Page 3