Social Networks, Not Social Media

Back in December, I read Ev’s piece about building Mozi and the problem he’s trying to solve. It brought me back to my early motivations with Glass and what I hoped to accomplish. At the time, we talked about it as an “interest-based community” — effectively, a big club for people passionate about the same thing: photography. In hindsight, I think Ev’s framing resonates more. Perhaps I was just triggered after years of working at The Social Network* and wanted to avoid the term entirely.*

But let’s face it: Social media platforms (whether Facebook, Instagram, X, Mastodon, or Bluesky) aren’t truly about your friends or even the people you’re interested in following. Increasingly, they’re not even effective ways for creators to gain attention or build an audience. These platforms are optimized for engagement — often at the expense of meaningful connection. They’ve become a battleground for algorithms, attention oligarchs, and content churn. For creators, businesses, and communities, the promise of reaching your people feels further out of reach than ever.

This past week, seeing the legion of attention oligarchs line up behind a new president was unsettling. Many are optimistic about this next phase of social media. Frankly, I find it terrifying. Yet, in this chaos, there’s also an odd sense of optimism. Platforms are fracturing. People are seeking new spaces to spend their time, attention, and money. It feels like a pivotal moment to be part of something different — something special. A place where you want to belong, where you want to spend your time (and money), instead of being the product that enriches a select few.

Glass may look similar to other services on the surface (there are conventions), but it’s built on fundamentally different principles. For one, we don’t have follower counts. In fact, we don’t show counts at all. When you appreciate a photo, it’s not a performative act broadcast to the larger network; it’s a private acknowledgment to the creator. We emphasize comments and discussion, modeling thoughtful engagement through design and community norms. Over time, our members have embraced this approach, despite years of conditioning by other platforms. It’s been glorious to witness. And, of course, the big one: Glass operates as a paid membership-based community.

When I joined Facebook in 2009, I was skeptical about one platform controlling online identity. During my first hackathon, I got into a debate with Dave Morin about it. I’d just signed up for Facebook a few weeks before interviewing and told him I didn’t love the idea of one company owning the identity graph. I wished something like OpenID had succeeded instead. Instead of brushing me off, he engaged. “That’s why you’re here — to help build it better!” he said.

It was inspiring, and for a time, I believed in the vision. The idea was that tying your real identity to your online presence would lead to better, more meaningful interactions. People would be less likely to troll if they couldn’t hide behind anonymity. But as the years passed, the reality didn’t align with the ideal. Facebook didn’t push to make the identity graph an open standard; it saw it as a strategic advantage. And tying online interactions to real identities didn’t stop trolling. Instead, as these platforms scaled, the internet’s trolls became mainstream. Forums, Reddit groups, even 4chan-style shitposting infiltrated everything. And, well, it makes me sad.

With Glass, the bet was different. By being bootstrapped and charging for the service, we could avoid the pressures of VC-funded, growth-at-all-costs models. This meant no ads, no data selling, and no need to constantly pivot to chase endless growth. Instead, we could focus on crafting a culture that achieved what I’d hoped real identity would do all those years ago: create a space where people could genuinely connect online.

What’s been surprising is that it worked. Glass members are thoughtful, kind, and supportive. They really love photography. By focusing on this shared interest, we’ve built something that fosters connection. You’re all strangers, but this shared passion gives you something to discuss, bond over, and build friendships around.

We’re still working on scaling and convincing people that paying for something they’ve gotten for free elsewhere is worth it. The short answer is, if you’re not paying for the product, you are the product. Still, it’s a challenge, and as more people join and experience how great the community is, the momentum builds. After 3.5 years, we’ve created the platform we always wanted. There’s still so much more we plan to build, but it feels incredible to be here now, offering this space to you.

For those of you who are members, thank you for giving us a shot. You’re the magic that makes Glass work, and it’s a privilege to build this social network with you.

*For those of you who don’t know, I worked at Facebook from 2009 to 2013 as the first Product Designer focused on mobile. During that time, I designed the initial versions of their iPhone and Android apps, as well as the mobile web. I also worked on early iterations of Facebook Photos, Places, and the company’s first Interface Guidelines.