A word in favour of Facebook
[I originally wrote this intending to post it on Facebook, but I decided it was a little too mawkish and saccharine for some of my more cynical friends, so I thought I’d stick it here instead, where no one will read it. :)]
[Content warning: contains occasional unnecessary sweariness.]
There has been a lot of criticism of Facebook recently, and calls for boycotts or Facebook-free days/weeks/months. As well as concerns about privacy and ‘fake news’, I sometimes see posts arguing that Facebook is just for narcissists and self-publicists — it’s just a platform for egotistical bragging. Every now and then, someone somewhere writes about all the things they’re tired of seeing on Facebook. No one cares what you had for lunch, they say. No one cares about your holiday or your airport check-in. No one cares about your big run or bike ride. No one cares about what your kids have been doing. And, above all, no one cares about your vague expressions of unhappiness where any response elicits a secretive “message me”. It’s all just attention-seeking, we’re told.
This, I think, is bollocks. Perhaps I’m unusual in only following actual friends on Facebook and perhaps I’m unusual in having friends who are not narcissists or self-publicists — who are as nauseated as I am by the idea of a ‘personal brand’. But Facebook has been a lifeline for me, even a life-saver.
As your friend, I care about your moments of pleasure, joy, satisfaction, success and reward. We all naturally share these moments with friends — in person as well as online — because that’s how we involve our friends in our lives. What’s more pleasurable than a fantastic meal — and when you share it on Facebook, I know that you’re caring for yourself. What’s more enjoyable than a great holiday — and when you share in on Facebook, I know that you’re getting a well deserved break. What’s more rewarding than breaking your own distance record on a run, or beating your personal best cycling — and when you share it on Facebook, I get to enjoy your sense of achievement. And what’s more joyous than the daily pride, amazement or frustration you feel for your kids who, because you are my friend, I care about too?
And those vague expressions of lowness and misery? I’ve posted those. They’re a plea for help. Yes, they’re attention-seeking, but sometimes attention is what’s needed. Attention that heals and reassures you that you have friends who care enough to ask if you’re ok, hun, and who want to have that private conversation that you can only have with someone who’s made the effort to reach out.
Every post I see on Facebook I see as an act of friendship, not ego, and with just one click on the ‘like’ button, I get the chance to send a little friendship back — to tell you I think you’re fab, or your kids are hilarious, or you’ll be ok and I’ve got your back. It’s how we connect and look out for each other. Facebook didn’t invent it, they just put it online. It works, and I value it.
Facebook has allowed me to form strong friendships with people I barely knew before and never got to know properly in person, because only through Facebook have I discovered the depth and breadth of your passions and talents in a way I never could when you were just a colleague I met sometimes, or the friend of a friend. Facebook has allowed me to become friends with people I’ve never even met, but we had an interest in common and now I also get to appreciate your wisdom, humour and kindness. It’s helped me get to know new friends better, when we all have busy lives and meeting up in person a lot just isn’t possible. And Facebook has allowed me to maintain friendships and reconnect with people I have cared about for years or even decades but who are hundreds or thousands of miles away — from Yukon to Vermont, Brisbane to Washington, Essex to Northumberland.
I love hearing about the things you’ve made, the places you’ve visited and the challenges you’ve faced down. If we could all meet up in a pub every week, these are the things we would talk about, and no one would think we were being narcissistic or attention-seeking. But we can’t meet in the pub, so we have Facebook instead.
Oh, but stop posting shit about cheap Ray-Bans. They don’t exist and it’s really annoying.
