Over the past week, I’ve been getting a steady stream of push notifications alerting me that another one of my friends has joined the new social media app Secret. “Who could it be?” my screen asks each time, which is less an actual question and more an attempt to pique my curiosity. Technically, it could be any one of the couple hundred random people whose number I have in my phone. Within that parameter, I know for sure that it’s someone I’ve at least talked to; whether or not I consider that person a friend is questionable, mostly because Secret won’t tell you who it is that just joined the service.

This is, of course, is the whole point of the app. Created by ex-Googlers Chrys Bader and David Byttow and released last week, Secret allows users to post updates (aka secrets) under a cloak of semi-anonymity. It’s an earnest little app that sits somewhere in between Frank Warren’s Post Secret, Whisper and Instagram. When you sign up for Secret, the app pulls in cleaned data from your phone's contact list and uses that to define your social circle. So anything you post gets automatically pushed into your contact’s feeds, meaning on their end they know a friend posted it, just not which one.

>Deep down we all want it, but earnestness on social media is embarrassing.

Like Facebook and Twitter, Secret’s declared purpose is to connect people. But unlike its more popular counterparts, Secret isn’t about bolstering our digital identity—it’s about covering it up. Following the release of other anonymity-based apps and sites like Whisper, WUT and Social Number, it’s safe to say apps that shroud the profile we’ve so meticulously built for ourselves is now a legitimate trend. It was a long time coming. Outside of tight-knit communities like listservs, secret chatrooms and message boards, we've grown used to censoring ourselves on social media. It was only a matter of time before apps turned their attention towards a big, unsolved question: What will it take to get people to be real online, in the way they might be with a close group of friends? They're betting the answer is anonymity.

It’d be easy to call the rash of anonymity-based apps a direct backlash to Facebook, but that isn’t quite right. In a lot of ways, they touch on something much more basic than that. No one knows how it will actually shake out, but apps like Secret and Whisper might achieve something Facebook and Twitter will never be able to, despite the sheer mass of humanity on those sites, which is: These apps have the potential to actually feel human.

A Safe Space for Squishy Feelings

Authenticity on the web is a slippery idea. Deep down we all want it (that’s human nature!), but earnestness on social media isn’t just uncomfortable, it’s embarrassing. Sites like Facebook and Twitter have conditioned us to believe that we deserve to be listened to—not just by our family and intimate circle of confidants, but also by the 900 “friends” we have on Facebook. The things we share tend to be superficial, impersonal and self-promotional. There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, I’d argue that’s the way it should be. Those 900 friends on Facebook aren’t our therapists, so there’s no reason we should act like they are.

But Bader and Byttow like to believe there’s a place for a more authentic web, and they hope Secret will give rise to it. In this imagined digital utopia, snark will be replaced with self-awareness and kindness. Under a thin veil of anonymity, people will be able to say what’s on their mind no matter how cheesy, horrifying or lame it might be.

A secret someone in my circle shared.

It sounds a lot like Whisper, the confessional app popular among teens that reads like pages ripped from a hidden diary, but the bones of Secret’s network are actually totally different since the app only shows you posts from people you are somehow already connected to. “There are certainly apps that address that cathartic need,” says Bader, referring to Whisper. “I think the difference is taking that and figuring out how to put it into a context that makes it a lot more valuable and timeless.”

While Whisper is a window to the strange and fascinating collective global consciousness, Secret is an insight into the collective subconscious of people you actually know, which Bader and Byttow are hoping will ultimately be the reason you keep coming back to Secret.

If your friends “heart” something you post, it travels to their friends, and if those friends like, it travels even further. In that sense, Secret is an interesting look at how information spreads; it really highlights how interconnected we really are.

This structure isn't just an attempt to make the information on the app relevant to its users, but it's also meant to impact the timbre of the content posted on Secret. “We have social norms for a reason, and the social norms we created on Secret is knowing your friends are in the room with you,” says Bader. For example, he says, you (probably) wouldn't send a nude pic to your contact list, so why would you do it on Secret? They call this the masquerade ball effect. “We’ve managed to maintain loose social norms, and that's one thing no other anonymous platform has been able to accomplish,” he adds.

>My feed began to read like a Burn Book written by the technology blogger set.

Unintended Uses

The first few days I was on Secret, the app really did reflect the fuzzy, earnest hopes of the founders with status updates like, "Sometimes I still look at your Facebook Profile," or "I just quit a job making $140K to devote more time to volunteering." But as more of my friends, and my friends' friends signed up, my feed began to read like a Burn Book written by the technology blogger set. It’s filled with jabs and inside jokes about people I only know by association and Twitter handles. To be honest, it hasn’t been very fun to use. “There are a lot of people using the product in ways we didn’t expect or even didn’t really want,” Byttow admits. “But it’s about how you come out the other end. “

You can see the promise here, despite the app's rough start. Secret is certainly not for everyone— I have a hard time imagining myself posting to it regularly. But Bader and Byttow believe the idea of semi-anonymity has promise as a platform that reaches beyond the initial app. “We love the idea of what can anonymity do,” says Byttow. “What can it afford us? What can we build on top of that dimension?”

These are interesting questions, and we’re just now beginning to explore the answers. One thing is for sure, though: By choosing to toe the line between anonymity and public identity, Secret has entered a new realm of social media—one where the norms haven’t quite been defined. Call it a cop-out if you’d like, but you have to admit that Secret, and the apps like it, are going to be an interesting social experiment.