A Conversation with Caleb Clark - Page 8
October 25, 2001
For the inside scoop on the Zen of hosting, I went to someone
with more experience in the field than almost anyone I know.
Caleb Clark has been a host to countless communities over the
last five years. From big sites like Netscape's Professional
Connections, to smaller ones like Y-Ride, a community site for
teenagers. Clark has the unique ability to be both supportive yet
administrative, encouraging yet authoritative.
I spoke with Clark via email in early 2001 about what he's
learned hosting communities in virtual places. His interview
demonstrates all the things that make him a good host-he's
exuberant and engaged, creative and attentive. Notice how he even
compliments me on my questions. Clearly, this is a man who knows
how to have a conversation.
I hope you find him as insightful and entertaining as I did.
Caleb, please give us a brief introduction to who you are and
what you do, specifically your work in community and the web.
I'm a techno geek born and raised in the crossfire hurricane of
the late 1960s, a flower child, not to be confused with a hippie
like my mother. See man, my revolution is technology, power to
the geeks. Grab your ray gun, Annie, we're going sci-fi story
hunting!
OK ... that was strange. Anyway, along the path of growing up, I
was steeped in consensus-run groups, both successful and
unsuccessful. There was a commune in the redwoods of Mendocino,
California, the Haight in San Francisco, and three small free
schools in New England that I attended up to sophomore year in
high school.
This all resulted in a fairly flaky resume, elusive purpose at
the hands of tremendous freedom, and 7 years/4 schools for a BA
from ASU. My first formal flirtation with media and groups came
with being a production assistant on several Hollywood feature
location shoots. This was my first taste of a small group totally
focused on one clear goal (screenplay), whose success depended a
large part on good communication.
When the first Wired Magazine came out, I found myself working as
a carpenter in Santa Fe, NM, while I freelanced for a local
newspaper. After learning HTML and getting online, I followed
Wired by moving to San Francisco and the web revolution in the
mid-1990s, where I freelanced and wrote shorts for Wired. In
January 1996, I was a lonely, small corporate webmaster so I
started NoEnd, a group of web heads and artists hell bent on
Humanizing Technology. My idea being that there must be other
lonely webmasters out there doing a job they could not share, nor
explain to hardly anyone.
We met upstairs in a North Beach cafe/bar and asked each other
how our weeks were. Each week more and more people started
showing up by word of mouth. Then a freelance web worker friend
of mine, named Paul Vachier, who was thinking along the same
lines groupwise came to a meeting with a bunch of folks he worked
with. Paul and I then partnered up to grow this new entity called
NoEnd. Since few people in the world had had weeks like ours, let
alone understood our acronyms, the sharing became very popular,
and we started using a warehouse for meetings. Big companies
lined up to present to us. When they did, we insisted they sit on
futons in the circle just like us, and cut short their
presentations for ruthless Q&A. And they still came. We very
quickly started a listserv that runs to this day. A hallmark of
the NoEnd list is poetry, travel essays, family news, and
personal sharing sprinkled in with a very high signal to noise
ratio. I say without hesitation that the success of my
professional and personal life is due in a large part to the
people of NoEnd. NoEnd's success was definitely partly the luck
of good timing and location, and it expanded quickly to what it
is today, a quiet but vibrant and respected group of very
experienced professionals who strive to humanize technology.
In 1997, I moved to San Diego to get a Masters Degree in
Educational Technology at San Diego State University. I studied
online community, usability, and stories. During this time, I was
fortunate to work for Netscape Inc. (Pre-AOL) as a host in their
"Professional Connections" online community from Beta to launch
and for a year of heavy participation, due to Netscape.com being
a very high traffic site. After my MA, I taught graduate web
development courses (both in person and online) at SDSU for a
year with each class having its own online community. This gave
me the interesting opportunity to host the birth to death cycle
of six communities. I recently completed a year of doing the dot-
com dance as director of online community and project management
at an irrational, exuberant start-up. At the time of this
writing, I am the Director of the BAT_LAB (Ballpark Advanced
Technology) for the San Diego Padres' baseball team. We're
working on evaluating integrated advanced technologies for the
new ballpark and surrounding 26-block re-development zone in
downtown San Diego.
You've been a host at many web-based communities. Why are
hosts important?
Groups need leaders to achieve goals. Hosts are leaders. Let's
take a cocktail party, for example. A good party usually has a
good host. The host of a party provides structure, information,
and a single point of communication. At a good house party,
people don't pee in the bushes because they know who to ask where
the bathroom is--OK, that's a weird example. How about: The
partygoers don't drink warm drinks when the ice runs out because
the host gets more ice, or if there's a fight, the host calls the
cops and talks to them when they get there.
But online it's even more important to have a good host, and
here's why. Imagine a cocktail party with 200 people under a
tent. You're talking to two or three people in a din of other
unintelligible conversations. You move from group to group and
keep talking, and you can't hear what everybody else is saying.
Now compare this with an online community of 200 where, because
of the way the technology is structured, you can read what every
single person is saying. It's a lot more information and takes a
lot more leadership (hosting). It's as if someone at a real life
party quieted down the room and said, "OK, we're all going to be
quiet while one person talks and the rest listen." And then tried
to keep it going with all 200 people while the party chemicals of
choice kicked in. Hosts provide communication, macro-structure,
information, and the law of the land--some fundamental basics of
any community.
Looking the Part - Page 7
Design for Community
A Conversation with Caleb Clark (Con't) - Page 9
|