De-Faced

Since deleting my Facebook account, a few of my friends have been curious as to why I left.  Some have been supportive and understanding, others less so.  Those friends who have been less supportive suggest, with scrunched faces and cocked heads, bafflement at my decision.  They convey to me that I am committing social suicide, that I am cutting myself off from the world.  When I try to convince them otherwise, they tend to walk away unconvinced.  I've taken this as a sign that, instead of being wrong, I just haven't been articulating myself well enough.

I have tried to sit down and write this a few times already, but each time I sit down, my thoughts spiral into an annoying rant.  I sound didactic, douchy, and preachy.  This is my latest attempt.  I can't promise it won't sound like a rant, or that you won't think me douchy, but I have to try.

My reasons for quitting are not revelatory.  They are most likely things that anyone who has used Facebook will have thought of at some point.  Some people more frequently than others.  In my case, I thought about them often.  So often that I couldn't do it anymore.  The positive aspects of Facebook couldn't overcome what I saw as the overwhelming negatives.

What are the negatives?  It's addicting.  It's a distraction.  It's creepy.  People say and share crazy things - often.  And I think it's making us less connected to one another.

The Addiction
I started feeling like a junky.  I would feel weird, withdrawal-like symptoms if I hadn't checked my Facebook in more than a few hours.  I would check it on my computer and my phone.  There was no place I couldn't get my fix.

The scene of Mark Zuckerburg's character at the end of "Social Network" where he sends out a friend request and seconds later is shown clicking refresh over and over again is emblematic of the addiction.  Whether it's a friend request, or a status update that is just dying for a few "likes," we've all been there, getting that jolt of excitement when that little red notification appears.


The Distraction
I often wonder how many times I've jumped on my computer with a specific goal in mind, and then thirty minutes later think to myself, what the hell just happened?  I went online to do [X].  I still haven't done [X].  (Resenting self.)  

Instead, I've learned that a college friend is in Europe while I'm in the library.  "Check out my 6,000 photos of Brussels/Amsterdam/Sweden!"  I do.  Or that a friend is in sunny Arizona watching the Giants play spring training games.  His status leads me to his page, where I scan his photos, and then see my friends who are tagged, and then click on the friends in the photos, which then leads me to their page, and then to their photos, and so on and so on.

[I graduate in a few weeks and will then spend the summer studying for the bar exam.  The less distractions the better.]

The Shit
The incessant updates.  The person you just can't seem to get out of your news feed.  The bad politics.  The image projections.  The photos of people you thought (and hoped) you'd never see again.   You know what I mean.

I'd often log on and feel the need to shower immediately.

Sure, you can "block" people, but I found that the moment I tried blocking someone, another, stronger force of shit appears.  And what, de-friend them?  No chance.  What if you run into that person?  It's happened.  It's painful.

The Creepiness Factor
I'm not sure when it happened, but I think it was more of a cumulative escalation.  Facebook wasn't always so creepy.  People weren't able to track you, or your every move, down so quickly.  Every comment of yours on someone else's photo or wall didn't appear in someone else's news feed.

The timeline was the final straw.  The past six years of my activity on Facebook accessible to people who I haven't talked to once or haven't talked to since middle school?  I'd rather not.

And it's not just the creepiness of other people that concerned me.  My own feelings of creepiness were troubling.

How do I know this about this person?  Is it really healthy for me to have this much information about someone I met once?  Or haven't even met?!  Should I really be looking at their photos from their most recent vacation to Hawaii?

Probably not.  But I did it anyway.  And you do too.

The Disconnection
Becoming more and more connected to one another through social networking sites like Facebook, are we actually feeling more connected to each other?  Or does it have the opposite effect?  Do these sites actually separate us and create a false sense of connection?  Since college, I've been convinced that this issue would be the theme of our generation.

Within the past few years, through Facebook, I felt like I knew more information about my friends - where they were and what  they were doing - but less and less about them at the same time.  It was easier to keep tabs on everyone.  But I noticed that as we all started using Facebook more frequently, other forms of communication or interaction dropped off.  Less phone calls were made. We spoke less and hung out even less.  Why call someone to see what they are up to or how they have been when you can just look at their most recent status update or photo album?

Within the past few weeks the New Yorker and the Atlantic ran big stories on this issue.  The consensus is that Facebook is having a huge impact on society.  Some say it is making us lonelier, others say that it all depends on how it is used.  If people use Facebook as a tool for getting together with people face-to-face, then it is good for us.  But most people don't, and the effects have been pretty clear.  More of us are living alone and more of us are becoming lonelier.

God, this has been a depressing post.

Happy!
When I quit Facebook, I said that my shorthand reason for logging off was that I felt I would be happier and that I would be a better friend.  How have I fared?

My theory was that I would be happier because I would seek people out more.  Instead of feeling like I had already had enough of people after a few minutes of "news-feeding," maybe I would try to spend time with the people I care about.  Maybe I would call my friends and family more often.  Or if not call, then write a personal email - no more of the mutual stalking.  Maybe I would try to arrange things with friends.  Maybe I would read more thoughtful articles and essays instead of aimless floating around Facebook.

After more than a few weeks, I can say that I'm definitely happier.  As far as being a better friend?  I don't know.  You'll have to ask them.

This all being said, you can now follow me on Twitter!

What?!