At 19:38 pm every evening, as if by ritual, each member receives an email: “Seven39 is open again”. Three hours, not a minute more. A social network that only works from 19:39 p.m. to 22:39 p.m. Eastern Time. Outside that window? Closed doors, no scrolling, no content. A red sign greets you with a very, very specific underlying idea: “Social media is best when we are all online together. Nothing doomscrolling. No FOMO (do you want to know what it is?). Just 3 hours of fun every night.”
To my tired old Neapolitan bones I have to admit that it sounds damn tempting. And then I tried to find out more.
How nostalgic for the primitive internet
The atmosphere of Seven39 is that of the late 90s internet, when you connected with a 56k modem, listened to *NSYNC hits (with RealPlayer), and exchanged emoticons, not yet emoji, on ICQ or MSN Messenger. A time when the internet was still “a place to visit”, not a permanent state of existence.
On Seven39, as you may have understood, there is no infinite scrolling, nor algorithms that manipulate us, no targeted ads. Just a chronological feed against a purple background, with posts limited to 200 characters. That's it.
And paradoxically, this simplicity is its greatest charm. It's like finding an old walkman after years of streaming: less features, sure, but how much personality! Seven39's minimalism is a constant question: do we really need everything else? Or have we ended up in a loop of ultimately superfluous functions that have made us forget why we liked being online?
The answer, at least for the current ones 3000 users (this is like Sparta), it seems to be a return to the origins. We want less, not more.
Seven39, a small community that is forming
What do people talk about on Seven39? The same things that have always been talked about online, but with an approach that feels like a virtual neighborhood community. On this social network find personal presentations, memes, the inevitable photos of pets. There is a guy who posts a drawing of a mouse on a post-it every day (don't ask me what it means, I don't know).
Another guy with a frog avatar is lecturing on the Bible. Another is letting everyone know he accidentally ate deodorant. Most people are using pseudonyms (I can’t do it, too many memories), but you can use your real identity if you want. Some posts have lots of comments, others just a few likes. So far, everyone I’ve seen has been friendly, although the occasional sarcastic jab does pop up.
It has the energy of a 90s web forum, the kind you frequented for unfathomable reasons, where you didn't know anyone in real life. After a few days, you start to recognize the regulars by their nicknames. Just like the times of Napster and the first themed chats, where people always met at the same times.
The creator and his vision
Mark Lyons, creator of Seven39, confirms that this retro feel is intentional. The ultimate goal, he says, is to explore whether there’s another way to be social online, one that feels like how we were online before smartphones became an extension of our bodies.
There was a specific time after school where you would go online and play games, or your friends would go online at the same time. It was a constant cycle and there was always something exciting going on. And then everyone would log off and “come back to life,” into physical life.
Most Seven39 users appreciate Lyons's vision. “It's a fun place where people are nice,” the user says. Cameron Banga. “I like the old school internet feel of this site,” adds another user called Ship.
Many also express how modern social media has gotten worse as “people started caring about looking cool online.” Simply put, Seven39 users seem to long for a time when things were more welcoming and people connected genuinely.
Seven39, the challenges of a timed social network
The question is: is this “trick” of the timetable enough to give new life to the social network model? The problem, you know, is that they are like a local restaurant: they need regular customers to survive. And Seven39 still has a lot of work to do.
After all, that three-hour window (19:39 p.m. to 22:39 p.m.) often coincides with dinner time, or other social interaction. Creating new habits is difficult, unless you call yourself Clubhouse and in the meantime a pandemic broke out. And even then, then, your moment of glory passes.
I'll be honest, and I say this with a bit of regret: I don't think it's sustainable in the long run. And that's a shame, because Seven39 is the dream of the internet we could have had: a place where you go, interact, and then go back to real life. It may not have a life in the future, but at least it reminds us that we had a life in the past.
