Quick Recap: As explored as part of my Case Study: Comparative Observations of Online Spaces for Cooking, “Despite the apparent lack of it in social media, civility in discourse is a crucial part of democratic deliberation and a critical symbol of “a developed democratic society.”(1) A unique case study on a corner of the internet where almost all comments are constructive and dare I say it, funny, can be found in the comments section of the New York Times (NYT) Cooking website.” Civil discourse can exist and thrive on NYT Cooking because:
Affordances that are designed in the interactions. Comments are called “notes,” so people feel welcome to share, but the site is useful with a “collegial and fact-based atmosphere than one filled with mere comment and opinion.”(2)
Commenters acknowledge that their opinions on recipes are loaded with identity, emotion, personal narrative and bias and are willing to present their views as such
Project Proposal:
Jury duty for the news. Select articles are annotated each day on the NYT by a quarterly rotating set of conservative journalists. Readers can read the news where they usually read it, and also encounter “notes” from journalists with opposing perspectives. Journalists with opposing views receive a platform to explain why they believe what they believe, users receive a well-rounded perspective on the news. (This idea is inspired by the American jury duty system and the “America in One Room” deliberative polling project by the Center for Deliberative Democracy at Stanford University.)
Currently:
Users who want to encounter opposing opinions must do so voluntarily in addition to their established news consumption habits. This requires an awareness that there is a need to consume opposing views and the discipline to repeatedly do so.
Next steps:
1. Interview conservative journalists:
Does this seem interesting or worthwhile to you?
Where do conservative journalists want to annotate the NYT? Is it headline news or opinion pieces?
2. Talk to users:
Do you seek opposing views? How?
Describe what type of “notes” would be useful to you
“They are transmissions sent from isolation, like radio diaries from a stranded spacecraft.”(1)
In a time of global pandemic and extreme social isolation, the messages are not interstellar radio waves. Rather, the transmissions in question are recipes.
Online spaces for cooking are reminiscent of the early days of the internet; when most of online interaction was just about reveling in the simple joy of meeting others who are also interested in whatever topic you are discussing online. As a space for communal gathering and sharing about food, the New York Times (NYT) Cooking website is an exemplary example of a healthy online community. The NYT Cooking website’s comments section is so uniquely wholesome and candid that it even has its own dedicated Instagram (@nytcookingcomments) with 82.7k followers, highlighting hilarious comments that allow viewers to briefly peer into the lives of others through the vehicle of recipes. In the time of COVID-19, cooking has also adapted to become a form of community and resilience; a solace that can only be found online in times when physical interaction is prohibited. Examples of healthy online communities can be found on Chinese social media cooking website, Xiachufang. Even in extreme situations, people are gathering online to show how they are preparing meals at home during the period of mandated quarantine by sharing their recipes and techniques with others.
Keywords: cooking, recipes, New York Times Cooking, COVID-19, healthy communities, social media, quarantine cuisine
Literature Review
The most dreaded place for many corners of the internet is often: the comments section. A brief scroll through many a popular comments-enabled webpage can show the hurtful and crude content that seems inherent to any public post. A healthy online community exemplifies moments for community members to connect in meaningful and constructive ways. Spaces for civil discourse; places where individuals can share, disagree and discuss with civility and mutual respect, feel increasingly difficult to encounter on the internet.
Among adult American internet users, “73% [of users] had seen someone being harassed online, such as by being called offensive names or purposefully embarrassed, and 40% had personally experienced online harassment. Of those who had experienced it directly, 66% reported that the most recent incident had occurred on social media, often Facebook, and 22% said that it had occurred in a website’s comments section. Moreover, such negative online experiences appear to be worsening. According to the most recent Civility in America report, the proportion of Americans who expected further deterioration in civility increased from 39% in 2010 to 56% in 2016 (Weber Shandwick et al., 2017).”(2)
Despite the apparent lack of it in social media, civility in discourse is a crucial part of democratic deliberation and a critical symbol of “a developed democratic society.”(3) A unique case study on a corner of the internet where almost all comments are constructive and dare I say it, funny, can be found in the comments section of the New York Times (NYT) Cooking website. This case study was researched during the rise of COVID-19 in the United States, arriving after causing extensive practices of social distancing in China. A comparative case study between the NYT Cooking community and the phenomenon of “quarantine cuisine” communities on Chinese social media further illustrate the genre of online cooking communities as a unique haven from uncivil community behavior, even during extreme times.
Comparative Case Studies
Case Study 1: New York Times Cooking
One of the website’s most famous comments on NYT Cooking can be found under the recipe for “Katharine Hepburn’s Brownies”:
“This has been my go-to brownie recipe for 30 years, even after going to baking school! I agree that using the best cocoa possible makes a difference. These days, I use Callebaut. In the 80s, an acquaintence in Germany to whom I brought some of the brownies, and who considered herself a great cook, asked for the recipe but was never able to get it to work. She kept asking me what she was doing wrong and I was never able to solve her problem. Eventually, she moved to the US and stole my husband!”(4)
These vignettes of micro-dramas peppered throughout the NYT Cooking comments section are humanizing moments on the internet. The act of cooking is deeply personal and subjective. “A recipe about cookies might conjure up feelings about your upbringing — be them happy, sad, or in between. How you might’ve been taught to make, say, macaroni and cheese (a pretty divisive dish itself, especially when it comes to the best cheese, consistency, and toppings) can affect how you feel about a particular recipe found on the internet as well. Which is perhaps why people tend to get so territorial about certain ingredients or instructions, or get so emotionally invested to the point they feel the need to tell you everything that happened leading up to and after completing a recipe. The nature of cooking is deeply personal and cultural, reflecting our age, gender, where we come from, and a whole host of our identities.” (5)
The affordances that are designed in the interactions available to users provide moments for constructive discourse. According to NYT Food editor Sam Sifton, when NYT Cooking was founded, “we made a conscious decision to call for recipe ‘notes’ instead of ‘comments.’ We know people feel strongly about the recipes we run, and we’re happy to read and share what they have to say, but we want the site to be really and truly useful to readers. We felt that asking for ‘notes’ on recipes would lead to a more collegial and fact-based atmosphere than one filled with mere comment and opinion. That’s worked to a large extent.”
For instance, under the “Eli Zabar’s Egg Salad Sandwich” recipe (image on the left), Alyce and Jean each contribute their local perspectives from Memphis and Australia, respectively. By framing a comment as a “note,” NYT Cooking invites members to contribute constructive feedback towards achieving a better constructed dish. Members can “upvote” by marking comments as helpful, bringing those comments forward in the “Most Helpful” section which is featured as the default column shown while scrolling through a recipe.
Under Mark Bittman’s “Lemon Souffle” recipe, the top comment comes from Christopher Johnson, who writes “So light and fluffy it feels like a tangy cloud! My wife hates me and life is meaningless. Be sure to be careful with the variety of lemon because it can sometimes be too tart. Good luck!”(8) Comments like Christopher’s and the responses below like these remind us of what makes the internet great. In this forum, we are reminded of “what cooking is all about — perhaps because food is such a visceral, basic, universal need, so tied up in our memories and emotions, from romantic passion to sadness to downright anger. Recipe communities can feel like a safe space in which to vent.”(9) No matter how anxiety-inducing the world around us can be, after a long day, we can always hope to step into our kitchen and make a bit of food that reminds us of somewhere, a childhood memory or a wonderful time shared with friends. By connecting with others online to find ways to find out how to crowdsource the best way to make a meal, we share a common goal and on the internet, find that there really are others that share in this humanity as well.
Case Study 2: Xiachufang
During the rise of COVID-19 in China, 780 million Chinese citizens were cited to have been practicing social distancing and staying home. (10) “Stuck at home because of China’s tough measures to rein in the spread of a coronavirus, millions of people are discovering an unexpected interest in cooking, with restaurants closed nationwide. Downloads of the top five recipe apps more than doubled in February to 2.25 million at China’s app stores, such as Xiachufang, from January’s 1 million, said research firm Sensor Tower.” (11) Zhang Xuesi, a popular chef on the Xiachufang recipe platform describes the rise in popularity of Xiachufang as a place that gives “learners an emotional outlet beyond just aspects of cooking,” whereas in the past, “users were only interested in learning cooking tricks, but now we talk about all kinds of subjects.”(11)
Beijing-based journalist and comic book artist Krish Raghav describes Xiachufang as a place where in the absence of being able to meet in real life, “people are posting daily diaries as coping mechanism,” and posting recipes as “diaries as a way of saying ‘I’m surviving, I’m still here.’” (12) A collaborative meeting of people over the internet to share not just recipes, but tips on how to adapt with limited access to ingredients and “overabundance of time” at home.
User Wu Shuang stayed home in Beijing for the month of February, and while learning how to prepare meals at home, “besides watching cooking shows, she reads users’ comments to learn from their mistakes, she said, with the only downside of her experiments being the washing up afterwards.”(11) By meeting online, people are able to deal with social isolation by connecting without the public-health risk of meeting in person. In times of extreme social isolation, the simple pleasure of encountering others online and sharing in their company over the discussion of preparing food is reminiscent of the way digital communities were in the early days on the internet.
Conclusion
A community is defined as “a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals.” A healthy online community is a digital space for members to share their perspectives and personal narratives towards a welcoming and inclusive community. Online spaces for cooking such as NYT Cooking exemplify characteristics for healthy online communities. Members contribute their “notes” as if striving to collectively create a definitive “best” recipe for a certain dish. In their notes, members also share private moments and memories that are revealing in the deeply personal ritual of cooking. As a comparative case study, recipe website Xiachufang also stands the test of what it means to be a healthy online community, weathering trying times together by sharing stories of food and survival at home during the rise of COVID-19. In a time when civility can seem significantly lacking online, finding an online community convening in the comments section with not just civil but helpful and hilarious comments feels like a beacon of hope for the future of online communities. By gathering and engaging in civil discourse about something as beautiful and simple as an egg salad sandwich, we can perhaps begin to re-learn ways to discuss and engage with others online.
2. Su, Leona Yi-Fan, Michael A Xenos, Kathleen M Rose, Christopher Wirz, Dietram A Scheufele, and Dominique Brossard. “Uncivil and Personal? Comparing Patterns of Incivility in Comments on the Facebook Pages of News Outlets.” New Media & Society 20, no. 10 (October 1, 2018): 3678–99. https://doi.org/10.1177/1461444818757205.
3. Boatright, Robert G., Timothy J. Shaffer, Sarah Sobieraj, Dannagal Goldthwaite Young, Timothy J. Shaffer, Sarah Sobieraj, and Dannagal Goldthwaite Young. A Crisis of Civility? : Political Discourse and Its Discontents. Routledge, 2019. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781351051989.
An ode to our Professor Zuckerman’s invention: the pop-up ad. I recorded snippets of my “IRL” activity and included bursts of messages and calls that pulled me away from the present.
In my visualization, I feature “IRL” moments of my week that felt fun, spontaneous and “connected”; moments that felt shared with others.
Bursts of digital communication in the form of text messages and calls “interrupt” those moments as they pop up throughout the day.
The experience of being without a phone felt like three separate experiences.
Pre-No-Phone-Day
When arranging for a smooth Saturday without a phone, it felt like I was preparing for a departure.
Saturdays are usually a pretty relaxed day for me; reading, spending time with friends, catching up with schoolwork. I selected this Saturday far in advance because I knew that weekdays without a phone would probably lead to too much chaos in the form of missed meetings and misplaced classrooms.
The evening before, I prepared for a day without a phone by notifying my sister (also my housemate) that I would like to be woken up by 9am and by sending a note to my friend ahead of time that although I will not text him the day of, I will in fact, be reading to study at Tatte Bakery at 1pm. In the evening, my sister and I agreed to meet at home at 9pm before heading out together for an outing.
The No-Phone-Day Itself
I woke up without my phone alarm at a reasonable time, but realized I had forgotten to check the weather. No matter, I wore layers.
Without meaning to sound dramatic, I will say that the experience of not having a phone felt in some ways like having phantom sensations about something that is not a limb, but something that does in many ways feel like an extra part of my body. I kept reaching for my phone, expecting to feel the weight of it in my pocket. This happened throughout the day and even until the end of the 24-hour no phone break, I still could not get used to the sensation of being without my phone.
Without a phone, I rushed to my study session early because I knew that I would be unable to notify my friend if I was late. I stood outside Tatte Bakery, holding a giant UPS package, waiting for my friend before realizing that indeed, he had been inside this whole time. With a phone, I could have been able to text and have expedited the process. However, the uncertainty leant a layer of serendipity to the day. Without the ability to reach out to friends and see what others were doing during the day, I instead felt a sense of really being in one place and the sensation of really being fully present.
Throughout the study session, I kept reaching for my phone to check the time, or to Google search the definition of a word (“ubiquitous”). A real clock or a dictionary? Nowhere in sight.
Something else I had forgotten to do was to search for the nearest UPS drop-off location and to also search for the UPS store hours on a Saturday. The result, I ended up back home still holding the same package, having given up on dropping it off and knowing that I would have my phone tomorrow, decided to do it then.
I concluded my evening meeting my sister back home by the appointed time. She sent a photo of me to my family group chat, proving that I was, indeed, still alive.
Post-No-Phone-Day
After the 24 hours ended, I immediately turned on my phone. Messages popped up and I quickly read them. The daily communications between myself and my family and friends could be skipped for a day and the exercise of not having a phone provided me with more mental space. However, the stuff of life is sometimes the daily communication with people you love, even if they are far away.
I enjoyed challenging my dependence on my phone and after this experience, would like focus on using for meaningful connections, not just augmented reality to my day. “Addiction” feels like a strong word to describe my relationship to my phone. But in this reflection, I did also call it my additional limb. It feels like a superpower, empowering my access to knowledge and connection, but hindering me from feeling truly present anywhere.