The Social

But did it Twitter?

Whenever Twitter's servers take a tumble--which, longtime users undoubtedly recall, used to be pretty frequently--the microblogging service brings up an image of a whale being lifted out of the water by a flock of birds. The creation of designer Yiying Lu, the "fail whale" has become pretty much iconic among Web geeks.

But the official blog of the New Bedford Whaling Museum in New Bedford, Mass., has informed us all that the word "twitter" was associated with whales long before Evan Williams and Biz Stone were dealing with customer complaints, sort of like how "muggles" was pothead slang decades before "Harry Potter" came along.

"Twitter," believe it or not, once referred to an obscure piece of sperm whale anatomy that was typically only encountered when whalers were chopping up one of the unfortunate creatures.

The Whaling Museum dug up an old document called "Report of the Commissioner for the year ending June 30, 1902: Aquatic products in arts and industries: fish oils, fats, and waxes. Fertilizer from aquatic products," which we assume must've been absolutely fascinating reading. On page 197, the term "twitter" is explained (in way more than 140 characters): it's a "thread-like or membranous substance ranging through the contents of the case...from 2 to 3 inches thick, glutinous, and extremely tough" in the head of a sperm whale. You know, like Moby Dick.

The document continues: "In decapitating the sperm whale, especially in severing near the bunch of the neck, a very sharp spade is required to cut through this tough and elastic formation. Although it is very difficult to manipulate, an economical whaleman never throws this substance away." Um, that sounds kind of horrible and gross. I'll take the more recent definition of "twitter" any day.

(NB: I stumbled upon this thanks to a link from a Twitter account that claims to be written by the massive whale hanging on the ceiling of the American Museum of Natural History in New York.)

As Facebook hits its fifth birthday on Wednesday, it's nearly impossible to find a recent news story that doesn't refer to its growth with terms like "lightning-fast," "exponential," "skyrocketing," or some other expression that would be quite at home in a space-age comic book from the 1950s.

That might be true now. And with an executive lineup sourced from Bay Area elite (including a handful of former Google leaders), high-profile conferences and parties, not to mention developer "hackathons" all over the world, it has all the makings of a landmark Silicon Valley craze. But don't let that fool you: Facebook owes its early growth, and hence the foundations for its wildfire expansion of late, to its roots in a more buttoned-up tradition of the East Coast elite. The site's conservative, calculated debut and blueblood allure were what sowed the seeds for Valley success.

Facebook's origins at Harvard University, created over many dorm room all-nighters on the part of founder Mark Zuckerberg and his friends, are tech press canon by now. They have surfaced in dozens of magazine and newspaper articles, the occasional courtroom spat, and now apparently a book penned by Bringing Down The House author Ben Mezrich. What's not talked about as often is that when Facebook, then called TheFacebook, made its quiet debut early in February 2004, it was just another entrant in a pack.

That was the same academic year that some colleges and universities launched online "facebooks" of their own as supplements to the paper directories that were then a staple in dorm rooms across the country. Plus, entrepreneurially minded students at a number of colleges, including several at Harvard in addition to Zuckerberg, were trying to best their alma maters by doing the same thing.

"When Facebook launched, the first week at Harvard was incredible because the adoption was through the roof," said Sam Lessin, founder of start-up Dropio, who was a classmate of Zuckerberg at the time, "and this was in the context of a lot of stuff other people had been doing online, including quote-unquote social-networking sites. The beauty of the product was that it was super simple and super easy to use."

In keeping with its roots at one of the world's most selective universities, Facebook's initial allure was not that everyone had a profile, but that not everyone could have a profile.

When Zuckerberg and his team first launched the site, it was restricted to their fellow students at Harvard University. Then it began to roll out to the rest of the Ivy League and other prestigious universities: Stanford, Yale, and Columbia were the first three, in March 2004. A valid e-mail address from a participating school was required to sign up.

From a technical standpoint, this was smart because it allowed Facebook to manage its growth, avoiding overloaded servers and skyrocketing bandwidth bills. On the PR side, however, exclusivity fueled Facebook's early buzz. MySpace, at the top of the social-networking heap at the time, was the massive nightclub where you might spot celebrities from afar. Facebook was the quiet cocktail lounge a few blocks away that required a password, but where you could be sure to see all your closest friends.

"There was a cachet to it. Everyone wanted in, and wanted to see what it was and how it worked," Lessin said. When the site launched at a new school, he added, "you'd have this incredible initial bump of people who had heard about it and seen clippings or articles about it, and were excited to jump on board."

With the exception of a short-lived file-sharing side project called Wirehog, Facebook's team kept the site a purely networking-focused tool at the start. Although you've been able to "poke" your friends from day 1, the original Facebook had none of its current media- and information-sharing features; initially, you couldn't even add friends from other participating schools, just your own.

But Facebook grew, both in accessibility and in flashiness. Members could start registering with e-mail addresses from corporations rather than just universities. It launched a photo album application that now hosts more than 10 billion pictures.

The "news feed" feature launched in September 2006, shortly before Facebook announced that it would let anyone join the site, setting off a brief wave of privacy-conscious member panic before becoming one of the site's defining functions.

Then there was the developer platform, which hit the scene in May 2007 with the first of Facebook's now-ubiquitous "hackathons." Even after relocating from Boston to Palo Alto, Calif., and in spite of a billion-dollar buyout offer from Yahoo, Facebook hadn't enjoyed much real "tech cred." The platform changed that.

Creating a Facebook application soared to the top of Web companies' priority lists, and even though Facebook's traffic had started to take off when open registration launched the previous fall, this was when it really escalated.

With Facebook now five years old and reaching more than 150 million members worldwide, it comes into question whether it has abandoned those austere New England roots and that strategy of calculated growth in favor of Silicon Valley's get-big-now attitude.

The Facebook Connect product lets third-party sites use Facebook's log-in credentials for the first time, something that's put it back at the forefront of the developer community. It's also caught on in many countries outside the United States, with a big majority of its new registrants now overseas. That brings both technological implications--server power outside the States can be especially expensive--as well as political ones.

And no regular reader of tech blogs can avoid the constant coverage of Facebook's ongoing search for a solid revenue model, the ultimate Valley narrative of struggle and all-too-frequent failure. But in a post on the company blog late on Tuesday, founder Zuckerberg hailed Facebook's iterative nature and go-forth attitude, something that has become increasingly prominent since its westward journey into the Valley's upper echelon.

"Building and moving quickly for five years hasn't been easy, and we aren't finished," Zuckerberg wrote. "The challenge motivates us to keep innovating and pushing technical boundaries to produce better ways to share information."

What Zuckerberg and his hundreds of employees ought to keep in mind is that even though Facebook's willingness to change and evolve has been key to its success, so has its awareness that change should be steady and pragmatic. When Facebook moved too fast, as with the launches of the News Feed and the Beacon advertising program, members freaked out.

"They've built this incredible, incredible product that's just incredibly successful and valuable and useful, but really, its roots were just super simple and super local," Lessin reflected on Facebook's early days. "Because they were able to do that, and grow in a very controlled way, by the time they really wanted to turn things on, they were able to."

It's like they always say: never forget where you came from.

Bolt.com, best known as a video sharing site that didn't really catch on, has filed for bankruptcy and shut down. The site had been in acquisition talks with GoFish, which would have been able to cover the $10 million settlement in a copyright infringement case with Universal Music. Earlier this month, the acquisition fell through, and Bolt was essentially doomed.

But it was really MySpace, not YouTube or copyright woes, that struck the first blow to Bolt. Before it shifted its focus to video, Bolt was a teen-oriented social networking site in the days when Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg was probably getting beat up on a playground somewhere. You could create a profile, talk with other members in chat rooms and message boards (this was the pre-webcam era), and engage in other forms of 1998-vintage "interactivity," like online quizzes and polls.

Bolt circa 2001, thanks to the Internet Archive.

(Credit: The Internet Archive)

I was a teen in the '90s and had a Bolt profile out of curiosity, but those were the days when Internet social networking was still a very restricted phenomenon for a number of reasons: first, it was still seen as "weird" (and from parents' perspectives, dangerous) for teenagers to be socializing online rather than in real life; and second, AOL was still a juggernaut in those days. Its chat rooms and message boards, not to mention Instant Messenger, were the go-to place for kids who didn't feel like doing their homework. Then there was the fact that chatting and message board posting was, thanks to the limitations of dial-up connections, more or less all you could do. The infectious draw of viral videos and streaming music was still out of reach for many.

The critical mass wasn't there, so there was no real bandwagon effect to help Bolt grow. Then MySpace came along with its originally music-focused model--if My Chemical Romance has a social networking profile, it can't be just for losers, right?--and online social networking lost much of its "a/s/l?" stigma (that's "age/sex/location," one of the Web's oldest pickup lines, for you newbies). Bolt probably could've found some way to "evolve" and get the word out, but it didn't--the video-site makeover flopped amid the current glut of YouTube clones.