The Suspensions Nextdoor Doesn’t Study
Late Saturday, Brandon shared that his Nextdoor account had been indefinitely suspended shortly after he started posting.
This is the part of Nextdoor that doesn’t show up in the surveys, research reports, or LinkedIn articles.
It’s also the part that raises questions about transparency.
When users are suspended, what exactly is the appeal process? How are decisions reviewed? What standards are being applied? Why are the Community Guidelines often written broadly enough that interpretation seems to favor the platform?
I’ve asked these questions before and have yet to receive meaningful answers.
What makes this even more interesting is that suspended users don’t necessarily disappear from the ecosystem immediately. Their accounts, data, and history remain part of the platform. Yet discussions about transparency surrounding suspensions, appeals, and user rights rarely seem to receive the same attention as discussions about Weekly Active Users, advertising opportunities, or engagement metrics.
For many users, it can feel as though simply asking difficult questions, disagreeing with the prevailing narrative, or refusing to become “another brick in the wall” creates risk.
Whether that’s perception or reality, it is a perception that leadership should take seriously.
This isn’t a study about FIFA.
This isn’t a study about home insurance.
This isn’t a study about pharmaceutical advertising.
This is about real users who believe they’ve been silenced and want to understand why.
And that’s a study I’d be interested in reading.
If You Can't Park It, Maybe Don't Drive It
Today around 4:00 PM EDT at the Rivertowne Harris Teeter, I stumbled across another parking masterpiece.
I have a simple philosophy in life:
If I can't park a vehicle between two giant painted lines, I'm getting a smaller vehicle.
Apparently, not everyone shares this revolutionary concept.
This particular driver parked like they were fleeing a bank robbery, avoiding an asteroid strike, or both.
Look, nobody is perfect. We all have bad days.
But if your SUV needs parts of three parking spaces to feel emotionally supported, it might be time to reconsider your relationship with that vehicle.
Just a thought from a guy with one leg who somehow manages to stay between the lines.
Until the next installment of Internet Garbage...
America’s 250th Birthday: A Neighborhood Celebration or Another Nextdoor Food Fight?
As America approaches its 250th Independence Day celebration, communities across the country should be preparing for backyard cookouts, parades, fireworks, veterans being honored, and neighbors coming together to celebrate a remarkable milestone in our nation’s history.
Instead, many neighborhood conversations seem destined to become the annual debate we’ve all seen before:
“My dog is scared of fireworks!”
“It’s only one night a year!”
“Think of the veterans!”
“Think of the babies!”
“Someone parked in front of my house!”
“Who left the empty beer cans in the cul-de-sac?”
These discussions aren’t unique to any one platform, but they highlight a broader issue.
For all the talk about connecting neighbors, Nextdoor often seems to amplify unresolved disagreements among people who live only blocks apart. The platform excels at surfacing conflict but struggles to transform it into constructive dialogue.
Ironically, I think Nextdoor should stop pretending otherwise.
Lean into the tabloid nature of neighborhood life. Let people laugh at the leaf blower complaints, HOA disputes, missing packages, rogue fireworks, and parking wars. If engagement is the goal, embrace what users already gravitate toward, grow weekly active users, sell more advertising, and ultimately create profitability that benefits the shareholders who continue to support the company.
Because if the platform isn’t going to unite neighbors, it might as well entertain them.
Hopefully, when America celebrates 250 years of independence, we’ll spend more time waving flags and less time arguing over who left their trash cans out too long.
Happy early 250th, America.
Day #5: Still Waiting for a Study That Shouldn’t Be This Hard to Share
On Monday evening, I requested the complete Home Insurance Insights study that Nextdoor referenced in its blog. I wasn’t looking for a headline—I wanted the methodology, demographics, sample size, and supporting data behind the conclusions.
It’s now Saturday. Day #5.
I haven’t received the study.
I haven’t received an acknowledgment.
I haven’t even received a simple, “We’re looking into it.”
As I’ve said before, this isn’t surprising.
Maybe if I were a major institutional investor, a national advertiser, or an unpaid moderator who never questioned the status quo, my email would have been answered.
Instead, I’m simply a shareholder asking Nextdoor, CEO Nirav Tolia, and Jacob Chavis to follow through on the transparency they promote.
That raises a larger question:
If this is the experience for an investor asking for publicly referenced research, what happens when a local neighborhood advertiser has an issue?
Do they simply take a number like they’re waiting at the DMV? Or like the waiting room in Beetlejuice, hoping their number is eventually called while everyone else stares into the void?
It also made me think about the modern gig economy.
Ride-share companies connect riders and drivers. Food delivery platforms connect restaurants, customers, and couriers. Increasingly, those same companies are investing heavily in automation and AI to reduce reliance on human labor over time.
Nextdoor often speaks about AI as the future, but its value ultimately comes from real neighbors and local businesses creating the content and community that make the platform useful. If those relationships aren’t supported with responsive service and transparency, the “neighborly” vision becomes much harder to believe.
Technology should strengthen human connection—not replace it.
Life Happens… Vegas Will Have to Wait
Earlier this week, what started as a normal Tuesday quickly turned into a family crisis involving my mother. It was one of those moments where priorities become crystal clear in an instant.
There were decisions that had to be made, questions that needed answering, and someone needed to be her advocate. My mother was confused and, because English isn’t her strongest language, communicating with doctors and fully understanding what was happening became even more challenging. I spent the night at the hospital, then headed straight to dialysis the following morning without ever making it home.
As exhausting as it was, there wasn’t another option. Family comes first.
Unfortunately, that also meant making another difficult decision—canceling my trip to Las Vegas.
I was incredibly excited to spend time with my amazing children, hear about school, laugh at their stories, and just enjoy being Dad for a few days. Those moments become more valuable every year, and missing them hurts.
I was also looking forward to attending CCW, hearing about innovation, learning best practices, and connecting with leaders from across the customer experience industry. It’s always energizing to be around people who are passionate about improving the customer journey and sharing new ideas.
But sometimes life tells me that my place is somewhere else.
So, I pivot.
That’s something life has taught me over the past few years. Whether it’s losing a leg, sitting in dialysis three days a week, navigating health challenges, or unexpected family emergencies, I adapt, adjust, and keep moving forward.
Vegas isn’t going anywhere.
CCW will come around again.
Hopefully my children understand that Dad wanted to be there, and hopefully my mother continues to improve.
And for those of you who have been following my ongoing commentary about Nextdoor… don’t worry. I hope someone from Nextdoor still makes it to CCW, picks up Natalie Beckerman’s book When Did You Stop Caring?, and saves us all from the in-person confrontation my followers have apparently been waiting for. I suppose what happens in Vegas should probably stay in Vegas anyway!
For now, my place is exactly where I need to be.
Sometimes the greatest trip I can take is simply showing up for the people who need you most.