In the vast possibility of digital space, limits act as sturdy fences, containing user actions within a predefined range. Their purpose is twofold: reining in those who push the boundaries of what the space is designed for, and shaping how users think about the space itself. In preventing spam, or curbing harassment, limits are the bouncers at the virtual nightclub, maintaining a healthy ecosystem through the exclusion of highly anomalous activity. But limits are more than maintaining order - limits scaffold our mental model for what kind of space an online platform offers, and what it should be used for.
Imagine a social network that imposes a strict cap of 10,000 connections. Though the vast majority of users wouldn't be directly subject to such a cap, this simple restriction would yield a profoundly different platform to those in use today. It would emphasize reinforcing existing real-world connections with those we truly know, while preventing its effective use by influencers, politicians, celebrities and scam artists. Such a change would truly design away a large number of potential abusive behaviors and outcomes, rendering them impotent to have a broad impact. Boundaries aren't just safeguards against the unexpected; they are conscious design choices that influence the degree to which harm can occur.
The elegance of limits lies in their simplicity. They are easily described in terms of service agreements and effortlessly communicated to users. Technically, they are straightforward to implement and deploy, and their adaptability allows for easy updates as requirements evolve. Moreover, their clear and well-defined nature makes them amenable to legislation or regulation, enabling equitable and transparent enforcement rules for platforms, thanks to their content neutrality and enforceability.