Critical Mass is a nuclear science term; it’s the point at which a nuclear chain reaction occurs, having secured enough fissile material to carry through. Zzzzzzz.

In popular culture, we tend to drop this term outside of its intended definition. It’s interesting that these words have become popular - verging on abused - catch phrases, both inside and outside the web 2.0 world.

When a social network gains momentum and user registration is on the up, we deem the network successful as it’s gained critical mass. Enough users have started interacting within the network, started inviting their friends and there is a peer to peer endorsement of the product. Within this context, the point at which something reaches critical mass is rather vague. There is no magic - or for that matter scientific - formula used to reach this conclusion, as there is when calculating a nuclear reaction. In this instance, it takes its root more within a social conscience or feeling. These two words intended for the confines of science are now being sunk into rather vague territory.

The Critical Mass bike rides that take place all over the world must have taken note of this fissile material ideology. I don’t think their namesake was a coincidence. In San Francisco, Mass takes place on the last Friday of every month. San Franciscans meet on the Embarcadero with beers, people greet each other and hipsters showboat on their brakeless fixies. It’s a sight to be seen, as more and more cyclists join their ranks and snake through the city.

I myself have ridden my little yellow Nishiki in Critical Mass. As I was riding I started to wonder: What’s the point of all this? Are we trying to take back the streets? Remind those bastard car drivers to ’share the road’? Although I had no political mission in riding in Mass, I nevertheless found it really enjoyable. My fellow riders were friendly, there was lots of casual conversation and an almost tangible unified sense of belonging as we stopped traffic and were cursed by pedestrians trying to cross the street. It felt rebellious. We were being disruptive.

Chris Carlsson, a San Franciscan writer, editor and producer who was part of the original 1992 Critical Mass movement that started with a mere 45 riders, gave insight into this cultural phenomenon:

Critical Mass offers itself as an antidote to the elimination of public space which plagues our lives. We no longer know (if we ever did) why we need public space, and we surely don’t know what to do with it when we have it. So we roll along in a Critical Mass, vibrating with the peculiarly unique euphoria that comes from displacing the noisy, dirty stream of cars and being surrounded by interesting and attractive people. We exchange ideas and learn about new things in a simple, “natural” community of bicyclists who have chosen to voluntarily gather in our monthly organized coincidence. As this experience becomes more common and familiar we begin to develop ideas about life’s possibilities that are considerably richer and more communal than the atomized, individualistic solutions that are the only ones that make sense when we are trapped in our “normal” late-capitalist lives.

Does this feeling of euphoria transcribe on to the web community? I myself have connected with old friends and can easily keep in touch with those that live in other states and countries. I’ve noticed my peers have a renewed sense of enthusiasm about web development and the defining of platforms.

I think the case can be made that a community, regardles of the environment in which it lives, can provide its members with a true sense of inclusion and shared interest.