Should we use social media to archive our lives?

I read an article today that asked if the new location-based service, Facebook Places, is a “benevolent archivist.” As an archivist myself (though not a professionally practicing one right now), I wonder this too. Especially since I sometimes use social media as a memory trigger, a way to look something up about myself.

Location and memory

Memory is tied to location in a powerful way. Think about when you go to the other room to ask someone a question, and upon getting there, forget what you were going to ask. Often, going back into the first room will jog your memory, even if the question has nothing to do with that room or the objects in it. Recently, when my partner and I were trying to remember something about a particular day, I said, “well, where did we go that day?” We both pulled out our smartphones to see where we’d checked in. Once we remembered that we’d trekked out to the mall in the suburbs to go clothes shopping, the rest of the day came back to us and we remembered what we’d forgotten (which had nothing to do with being at the mall).

I’d like a record of the places I used to frequent, so I can look back and remember them when I’ve moved away or they’re gone. That ethiopian place I used to eat at during my undergrad. All the different farmer’s markets I’ve been to, each with their own quirks. The cupcake place where I get my Friday end-of-week reward. When I remember the places, other memories come pouring back about the people I was with and the things I used to do.

Leaving a trail

Facebook statuses were originally designed to tell your friends what you were doing, (remember when “is” was mandatory after your name?) and later what you were thinking. When I first joined, I thought it was such a neat record of my life (the parts of it I wanted to display, anyway). I used to go back and read over my old updates (it used to be easier to do that without too much clicking and scrolling), but now I find it hard enough to keep up with my social networks, never mind going back and rereading.

I often feel too busy to consciously document my life. I used to save all my movie ticket stubs and go back over them to remember what I’d seen. Now I more often end up chucking them when I clean out my purse (and the paper they’re printed on these days means that the ink fades completely in a short time anyway). I used to journal, I rarely do anymore.

The reason the concept of social media as an archive is so appealing to me is that it offers a built-in way to document my life while going about the business of my life. It isn’t something I have to set aside time to do, it’s something I’m doing anyway. It’s not a contrived reconstruction of an event, like a journal entry would be, but a mixture of my thoughts with data about time, location and relationship to other people that’s automatically generated. Checking in on Foursquare, using Twitter, and updating Facebook makes me feel like I’m leaving a trail for future Nicole to find.

The problems

I wouldn’t be a very good archivist if I suggested that this was the solution. Digital files aren’t infallible, and they don’t last forever, although some folks are working on it. And then there’s the issue of custody. Who controls data about me? I’m turning it over to these sites a few sentences at a time. The trade-off for that is social connectivity. That also means I might not always have access to what I’ve written. If Twitter shuts down, I won’t be able to scroll through my status updates or search by keyword on social search sites. There’s also the issue of privacy. (This Electronic Frontier Foundation article on locational privacy is a good summary.)

Right now, social media services don’t function in a way that makes it easy to retrieve my information in an organized way. I’d love to see some kind of tool that aggregates my social media data in a way that gives a portrait of my life, with timelines, location information, links to blog posts, and other contextual information. Archivists? Librarians? Semantic web specialists? I’m looking at you.