Better get the fire extinguishers ready, cos Facebook
turns ten this week. OK, so ten candles isn’t so many, but if you multiply that
by more than a billion users around the world, we’re talking about a serious
global fire hazard.
Now when you or I turned ten, we were still pretty
unsophisticated, probably still partial to an afternoon creating new worlds
with our Lego or zooming out in front of the Saturday morning cartoons on the
goggle box. But Facebook is rather more precocious than that. And, these days,
pretty much omnipotent.
It now touches every aspect of life for many of us.
Flirtations blossom (and resulting
relationships not being considered ‘real’ until your Facebook status says so).
Old friendships that have been eroded by time and distance are rekindled (sometimes to the detriment of more recent,
flesh-based ones). News spreads like wildfire (as do fake rumours and occasionally hateful propaganda). Business
is conducted through cyberspace (though
sometimes not in reality). Random silliness is shared to brighten our
mundane days (and inane games created to
annoy the hell out of us).
Like life or ‘The Force’ in Star Wars, Facebook has its light and its dark sides. The light
side can bring the personal touch back into a world where we are increasingly
isolated, forming unlikely alliances that can develop into long-term meaningful
friendships. It can give us a voice when we feel like we’re shouting into the
void. It can connect us with people with whom we can – if so inclined – make a
difference.
The dark side can be a vehicle for trolls and
predators, cyber-bullying, hate campaigns, false information and a neglected
life offline. It’s well documented and undeniable, but is that dark side the
rotten apple in the Facebook barrel that means we should throw the whole
harvest out? I don’t think so.
Like so much that has come before, Facebook (and the
Internet in general) has been rightfully accused of eroding our values and
eating into our precious time. But then, the printing press threatened the
vocal tradition of story-telling; the typewriter brought fears that it would
sound the death knell for calligraphy and letter-writing; television was
expected to kill the art of conversation and dumb us down in general. All those
accusations have some basis in truth – but ONLY when we, as users, permit it.
You want proof? Well, stories are still told. Letters
are still written. And we are still talking.
Just because you’re on Facebook, it doesn’t mean you’ve
got to play Candy Crush and post photos of yourself doing a drunken duckface at
every opportunity. Nor does being on Twitter mean you tweet what you had for
breakfast and cyber-stalk celebrity accounts (most of which are actually
written and run by unpaid interns hired by the star’s management).
Humans are, by definition, social. Even the grumpiest,
most interpersonally dysfunctional of us needs to connect with other people on
some level or another, and smart guys by Mark Zuckerberg saw an opportunity to
make money out of that fundamental need. Good on him, says I. Can’t blame him
for grabbing the opportunity and running with it.
But let’s not make the mistake of becoming drones,
pulled along by the tides of social media and washed by the waves of dross and
debris it brings with it.
Just as with the printed word, typewriters and TV,
social media has the potential to do harm and dehumanise. But let’s not forget
the benefits those developments have brought – the printing press led to the
gradual spread of literacy throughout society, typewriters made it possible for
information and ideas to be spread more widely, and television is not just Celebrity
Big Brother – it’s also David Attenborough and the New Year’s Day concert from
Vienna. All this, and more, applies equally to the online world.
Just let’s not forget, it’s no substitute for real life.
Technology is a tool, something we should use to enrich and ease our lives - not replace them. But we human beings are fatally flawed and we just don't to know when to stop, do we?
Thanks to the massive splurge of easily-accessible communications, there’s a dangers of forgetting the joys of actual human contact. You know, the simple stuff that can make life so much better.
When you meet a friend, actually sit down and talk to them, look them in the eye, listen to what they say, laugh at their jokes (even if they're not funny), offer your shoulder if they need to cry, take the trouble to suss out how life is treating them and what they need from you - their friend.
When you walk down the street, nod and smile at those people you see every day but you never acknowledge. Maybe the next day, they may greet you with a shy "Good morning" and - who knows - before you know it, you may have made a new friend!
When you buy something from a shop or supermarket, look the cashier in the eye as he or she hands you your change and say "Thank you" - and mean it. That simple gesture costs you nothing, but it could make all the difference to their hum-drum day.
I like people, I really do. Though there are plenty I can happily live without, and plenty more I'm sure aren't crazy about me, I really like folk. In all their glory, with all their faults and failings, warts and all, it is our fellow people that give life the colour it needs. Personally, I don't dream in black-and-white, so I certainly don't want to live in monochrome.
That’s why I believe that it’s up to us, as users, to make social media work for us, and to apply
an intelligent filter to avoid the dross that comes with the gift of instant
connection with a shedload of people around the world.
We have a choice – to make Facebook serve our
purposes, or to surrender ourselves to becoming its slave.
So, raise a glass to Facebook’s first decade and enjoy
your ‘personal video’ marking its tenth birthday (we all enjoy a little
ego-massage, don’t we?), but make sure you’re the one in control – at least of
your own little corner of the Internet.
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