A beginning from an end

I once had a Facebook page and then I deleted it. I was happy for four years. Then, my job said it was “highly recommended” that I have an account. So I created a new one. It was terrible. After a dear friend passed away, I deleted it. I was happy for four weeks. I let people make me feel bad for not having an account so I created a my third account. It’s been one of the worse decisions of my life.

I have spent twenty-five years of my life in a variety of places on the internet, from Usenet to BBSes to IRC to instant messaging, to eMule to DC++ to Twitter to Facebook to Instagram. They have all eventually gone by the wayside as people moved to new platforms. I’ve grown up and/or they became the cesspools I knew they were but managed to avoid for a while.

I still have my Usenet account, which is used sparingly. I also still have Twitter and Facebook, though I am spending less time on both. It’s taken me nine months, but I think I’m at the end my life on social media.

I have three Twitter accounts. I use them for three different things, but I rarely post to them anymore. When I decided I needed a break, I didn’t log in for three weeks. I found I didn’t miss it at all. I used them as RSS feeds and the amount of traffic that comes through each is overwhelming. I really don’t care about any of them anymore. They’re placeholders of names I’ve used online.

Facebook has been harder to quit and I’m not exactly sure why. I mindlessly scroll through things that don’t matter and I don’t even want the account. Honestly, if people had said they would sign up to my website to get an email whenever I wrote a post, I would have been happy with it. Instead, they asked me to put a link to what I write on my Facebook page so they could go to my website and read it. I now feel I owe an obligation to a lot of people who wouldn’t otherwise waste time reading what I write. That’s what Facebook has become, a passive, mindless endeavor with no interaction.

I have also found out several times in the past two months that I cannot even post things on my own Facebook page without people getting bent out of shape and attacking me. So, I hold my tongue and scroll on. No one wants to hear something contrary to what they believe.

Which brings me to today. Writer Sarah Smarsh posted on her Facebook page about her wish for a different meeting place than Facebook, but that this is where the people are. I nodded my head as read. She cited the reasons I’ve been thinking about for months about why people stay on the platform that harvests your data and doesn’t care about your privacy.

Many of you have special reasons for Facebook’s value in your life: You are rural–geographically isolated–so it enables quick group conversation across miles about practical matters like who will coach the soccer team. Or you belong to a marginalized group, and this platform allows you to be heard for a change about politics or social issues. Or you are retired and widowed and live alone and find much-needed conversation with old friends in other states.

But damn. I do think all of the above can be found through different avenues. We did it before.

She’s right. Facebook facilitates what we did for years without it, but we’re now addicted because things have been made easy, humans are lazy, and they know how to keep us logged in and scrolling.

Facebook is never going to change. It’s a goldmine of wealth for so many different interested parties and people seem to be genuinely addicted to being there or too lazy to try something else.

For those of you who think Instagram is better. It’s not. Facebook owns it and you’re just switching one problem with a newer, shinier coat of shit.

I never had messenger on my phone. I had a version of Facebook I downloaded from F-droid to avoid a lot of tracking. I deleted that over a month ago and, after a few days, I don’t even care that it’s not there.

But how does one leave Facebook? I know that if I do, I will lose access to some tools to do my job as a reporter. I’m sure ninety-five percent of the people who follow me won’t miss me. They may not even notice. This is evidenced by the fact that I have 221 followers today. When I deleted my account in April 2018, I had 1,404.

Facebook and other social media tend to turn people against one another. There is zero respect for thought outside your own. No one wants honest political debate. I can’t post anything that says, “all religions are a means to control people” or “there is no god.” To post something like that invites a backlash I would not wish on anyone.

Facebook is also a platform to post the very best you for all to see. I’m not like that. You ask me how I’m doing. I’m going to tell you. I do not pretend to be someone else to make myself feel better. I don’t put my “best foot forward” and show the world how awesome I am. Yet that is all we see on Facebook.

The confirmation bias, whereby your family and friends reinforce your ideology, only creates bubbles with no alternative views. You end up living in an isolated silo full of everything exactly like you with the friends you’ve had for decades. The rest of us only see a tiny facet of who you are. The best you that you choose to show other people.

Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” I spend nearly every day practicing this idea. Facebook doesn’t lend itself to that. Instead, it has become a narcissistic playground and I don’t want to play.

I know that if I leave Facebook, it instantly puts me out of touch with the community and all the people I know.

While I feel trapped and cajoled into staying on Facebook, I think it’s time to go. I don’t want to stay in a place that brings me more pain than joy. I want more from life than an endless, depressing scroll of the best of everyone else. Most of all, I want to see my name on the front cover of a book.

If I remember, I’ll post something from my blog. Otherwise, it’s going to be just me and my keyboard as I type away in obscurity. I’m okay with that. I hope you are, too.