Facebook affecting normal social activity
It was early evening on May 11. The year was 1812 and British Prime Minister Spencer Perceval was entering the House of Commons when a man sprung out suddenly from the foyer and delivered a fatal shot straight to his chest. The man was John Bellingham, and on that day in 1812 he earned himself the distinction of being the only man to have ever successfully assassinated a British prime minister.While Bellingham was swiftly hanged for his crime, many Brits applauded him. Those who did also glorified a figure known as Ned Ludd. These people were craftsmen who, in the preceding months, had rattled the rising industrial centers of England.
Bellingham merely demonstrates the zeitgeist of 19th-century England. Ludd, on the other hand, was an imaginary character whose name appeared on anti-Industrialist propaganda. He was considered the voice of the craftsmen who were losing their jobs over advancements in machinery and technology, thus the term "Luddite."
Jump forward two centuries and behold a similar frustration with technology - only this time it's taking away our productivity and lifestyles. But where are the critics? Maybe we're just not reading them because they don't appear in our newsfeed.
The theme of my sophomore year of high school was being "plugged in." Throughout the year we were lectured on the merits of human versus virtual interaction and how we could become more "plugged in" to the world around us. At the time it was ineffective for a bunch of middle-aged teachers who didn't use Facebook to tell us why we shouldn't either; however, it planted a seed that would sprout after reading Shamsa Mangalji's column "Facebook vastly underappreciated" in last week's Thresher.
Although Mangalji raises many valid points in her article, her praises of Facebook are cursory and illusory. You can put lipstick on a pig but it'll still be a pig. In the same way, the more I thought about the social networking site, the more I began doubting Facebook's benefits and realizing its drawbacks.
Commenting, posting, liking, sharing, adding - something is undeniably addictive about Facebook's platform, and harmfully so. I had become better friends with Facebook itself than many of my "friends" on the site, and I was less productive as a result.
So last week I audited my use of Facebook: how often I logged on and for what reasons. I found myself checking Facebook so habitually that it would be the first site I went to when I opened an Internet browser. I gained little from reading the thoughts and viewing the photos of people whom I rarely speak with, and worse yet, their updates were sidelining those of real friends whom I really did care about. My first course of action, therefore, was trimming my number of "friends."
I had 617 of them. Scrolling through their names, though, I began contemplating the meaning of friendship. Should a mere encounter with somebody constitute friendship? Not to mention access to a trove of personal information. What was my definition of friendship anyway? I'm not a social reject, but I'm not Mr. Popularity either, and I know I didn't really have 600 friends. My criterion for unfriending people was simple: Was I comfortable enough posting something to the person's wall? The answer to this question usually indicated whether or not I was really friends with them or not.
During my antisocial spree - unfriending nearly 400 people - I had time to meditate further on Facebook. Many of the interactions on the site are superficial and superflouous. "Liking?" Is this the way I want to interact with people I care about? So I removed my wall, photos and list of interests and put in their place, "To get in touch, email, text, call, or come see me. "
I never went so far as disabling or deleting my account, however, because I acknowledge Facebook's upsides. Many groups and organizations use Facebook to disseminate information. For example, Passport to Houston posts to Facebook whenever tickets to events are available. In addition, many of my friends at this point are away at colleges across the country, so maintaining a presence on the site assures that I'm kept in the loop on their lives.
Nearly all 400 people I unfriended last week were quite nice. Some have even requested to be "friends" again. I hope this article elucidates my recent online behavior and prompts them to seek me out in person if they truly want to become friends.
With every generation comes new technology. This isn't 1812, and I'm not advocating that somebody assassinate Mark Zuckerberg. However, Facebook is largely out of control, and its reign over social interactions ought not go unchallenged. So call me a Luddite. But you won't be posting it to my wall.
Eli Spector is a McMurtry College freshman.
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