I stress that I have planned my leave from the website months in advance, so this change is not a shocking swerve of any sort. Most of the people I work with in the CAP Project knew I would be leaving, and we had arranged other forms of contact. They were saddened by my decision, but they understand. When I mentioned my decision in CAP’s IRC channel, several of the old guard—more so associates than friends—responded with sadness, given that I would be leaving a hole in the community. All in all, their reactions showed mature sentiment and earnest understanding. The etiquette of community members who responded was courteous and respectful. There are CAP contributors that are more vocal, but those members tended to be outside of my range of familiarity to respond to care, I presume.

Reflection

We mentioned in the group activity for September 17, 2015 how internet denizens tend to be more sensational, overreactive, and, at times, vitriolic with emotions. I have seen drama artists milk their friends’ reactions when they claim they are quitting or raising other drastic news. Therefore, I acted not as a scientist testing an experiment but as a social engineer meticulously plotting how I wanted my audience to react (…yeah, right). I communicated my message ahead of time, and closing my profile is merely a seal on its envelope. This way, both the community and I carry onward with a minimum of unnecessary havoc.

Overall, this incident’s outcome was far from unpredictable or unwanted. The assignment expects the action of changing a profile photo to correspond with the reaction of people’s dissonant responses; in other words, it incentivizes betraying the etiquette of open communication. Should I have hidden plans to leave the site until yesterday, I would expect Smogon’s members to be confused and perceive me as dramatic; it would betray my reputation of being trustworthy. With such consequences in mind, I would not modify any events in the lead-up to my departure or the final change to my profile.