It’s hip to be foursquare? Not so much, really.

Editor's note: If Jeff Kraus had been a little bit bigger, he would be playing football for the Pittsburgh Steelers.  If he could skate a little faster, he would be playing hockey for the Pittsburgh Penguins.  Instead, Jeff – the VCCS Assistant Vice Chancellor for Public Relations – spent years working as a wire service, radio and award-winning television reporter in Richmond, covering state government and politics. His professional background includes strategic communications, speechwriting, and media relations for three years for Governor Timothy M. Kaine. He is a two-time graduate of Virginia Commonwealth University, most recently completing a master’s degree program in multimedia journalism. And no, we can’t say where exactly he is at this very minute…

Bad news:  I just ousted you as mayor of Planet Earth. I’ve also unlocked the “Every woman wants me and every man wants to be me Chuck Norris Badge!” From what I can tell, that’s foursquare humor.  Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe it’s an in-your-face foursquare slam dunk that confirms my supremacy and the simple fact that you’ve been “pwned.” It’s hard to tell, isn’t it? I appreciate Jon Newman’s gracious offer to guest blog about my feelings on the value – or really, the lack of value – of foursquare. I will avoid the temptation to label foursquare.  Too many friends – too many people that I respect – are using and enjoying foursquare for me to describe it with a bunch of pejoratives. But I am not using foursquare, and likely never will.

Don’t get me wrong.  I dig all the new toys that come down the line, promising to ease and expand our ability to communicate and to share ideas.  However, foursquare fails to do that.  I find no value in its broadcasts. Let me share with you five reasons why you won’t be tracking me on foursquare:

5. You’re not Kate; I’m not Leo; and this ain’t the freakin’ Titanic. Not since Leonardo DiCaprio stood on the bow of that ship and declared himself, “The king of the world!” have we had such a meaningless and pointless title as foursquare mayor – which ironically carries as much power as does wearing a Burger King cardboard crown. Who cares? Peter Shankman, speaking in Richmond in January, 2009, allowed me to understand the value of Twitter and other messaging tools with his yogurt example.  “Some people,” he said, “tweet that they are eating frozen yogurt.  Others will tweet that they are eating frozen yogurt because the corner shop has a half-off sale.”  The second person offered me something of value, telling me about the sale. Whether you are the king of the world, the mayor of the coffee shop, or the lackey at the library, it affects me not one bit.  And if you happen to be somewhere really, really cool where something life-changing is occurring you can share it just as easily on Twitter and Facebook.

4. I’m not your parole officer. Despite not joining foursquare, I have been dragged into it by others who have their foursquare whereabouts piped into their Twitter and Facebook feeds.  Honestly, it adds nothing to my life to know that Lindsey is checking in at home, that David is checking in at Penny Lane Pub and that Jon is at Food Lion.

3. You’re not my parole officer. Last spring, I got the chance to sit up on the glass and watch my Pittsburgh Penguins in the Eastern Conference Championship clinching  Game 4.  It was very, very cool.  I tweeted about it and probably dropped a message or two on Facebook about it.  I was excited. Honestly though, beyond those sorts of highlight moments when I am doing something out of the ordinary, why would you care about where I am?  Not for one second do I believe I am that interesting from your perspective. Nor do I believe my day-to-day whereabouts give you anything of value, unless you are a burglar or a stalker.

2. No one really cares about gold stars anymore, you brown noser. I have fond memories of the first grade in Mrs. Simmons’ class at Shenandoah Elementary.  If you did your worksheets well you got a gold star.  If you behaved in class all week long you got a gold star.  I remember once getting a gold star for helping clean the chalk board during recess.  And from the look of it, gold stars still are motivating folks – only now they take the shape of foursquare badges. (Note to self: insert here the over-used Blazing Saddles joke about not needing any stinkin’ badges.) These badges are right up there with those “gifts” you are encouraged to give to friends on Facebook.  You know, those virtual, meaningless cups of coffee or shots of Tequila or H1N1 vaccines that you “give” to someone on their wall. A fundraiser I work with once told me that her father always said if you couldn’t spend it, eat it or drink it, it probably wasn’t worth anything.  Let’s face it:  much like those Facebook “gifts,” those foursquare badges are just bandwidth wasted.

1. Brandeis and Orwell were on to something. In his historic dissent to the 1928 Olmstead case, U.S. Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis wrote that freedom is the right to be let alone. As George Orwell wrote in Nineteen Eighty-Four, his novel about a society under the thumb of intense government oppression and surveillance, “Big Brother is always watching you.” Neither man, I believe, would look kindly upon the practice of mindlessly over-sharing and reporting to the world one’s movements and whereabouts. I honestly can’t fathom why anyone would.

I remain uneasy with the thought that in a post 9/11 world, the government can thumb through my phone records whenever it likes with no accountability. Foursquare, I think, makes that sort of privacy invasion voluntary and routine. By participating in it, your privacy is discarded and strewn about on the ground, like clothing in an Erika Badu video. That’s not just an intellectual consideration. The Web site PleaseRobMe.com has already been connected to an actual burglary by the crime’s victim.  There’s no way that will be a one-time only event as we continue in The Age of Over-sharing.

Yes, over-sharing occurs on all social networking sites.  You must tolerate some weeds there as you interact with friends. But really, over-sharing is the myopic purpose of foursquare. So, do you wanna’ get together and hang out? Great!  Just do me a favor, drop me an email. I’m not on foursquare.

Or even better, just give me a call.