Anti-Social Media
I admit it. Even though I work and think at the edges of computer science, the value of social media has not reached me. A few days ago I joined Facebook. I did this more out of curiosity than anything else. I invited my daughter as a friend. She turned me down saying that she and her friends post comments she wouldn’t want her father to see. Yup, same as in real life. Where are you going? Out. What did you do today? Nothing. Apparently the parent filter remains on long after our teens turn to adults.
My feelings weren’t hurt by this rejection. The invitation was more of an effort to create a network than to learn the scary details of my daughter’s life. I also invited my wife. Thankfully she accepted. I am not sure what the implications of her refusing me would be. Within hours I received an email asking me if I want my wife to be my “spouse” on Facebook. I have a choice? Is Facebook an alternate universe where I can be a carefree and single? Nah. But it was funny to be asked. Like a good boy I immediately admitted to Facebook that we are, in fact, married.
Next thing, my “wall” (homepage?) there had bunches of pictures of my wife, me, our pets, kids, etc. I assume she put them there. Was she sending a n0t-so-subtle message to potential Facebook husand stalkers that my life is full and they should just move on? It is nice to see something there when I log in.
Naturally I navigated to her page. She has lots of friends. Most of them appear to be from Target where she works. A couple are barely out of high school. Interesting. I suppose you are probably rolling your eyes and wonder where I have been all these years. I have been rigth here, connected via electronic media to my world. It just never occured to me that a semi-public version of myself was something I would want. All this time I have worried that too much of me was discoverable. Every intimate detail of my life is stored in at least one database. Maybe Facebook and similar web sites are a way to fight back. Yes, you can uncover my credit rating, my health details, income, preferences in everything from books to bedroom accessories. Ican’t control that information. Ah hah! On Facebook I can.
What I am really saying is that without my cooperation most of things I would like to consider “private” are potentially available to anyone with the contacts or money to get the data. If I am forced to “live” inside all those databases, shouldn’t there be one where I reveal what I want to show? Apparently, I can also (like my daughter) decide who I want to keep ignorant of my online persona.
Social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter allow anyone to have a personal broadcast station where they can inform a (presumably) interested audience of every detail of their lives. What are you doing now? Do I care? Not so much. Let’s see if I have this right.
Social networking sites exist to permit people to keep groups of other people informed of every event of interest (to the author) in their lives. This level of engagement should promote mutual understanding and a feeling of belonging. None of the information posted is verified (except that my spouse is really my spouse…or at least I am willing to share the fantasy with someone who wants to say she is my wife). So, at my option, I can becme Walter Mitty (remember that short story?) and live out my fantasies with my “network”. Or, I can objectively report on every excruciating detail of my day-to-day life. Interesting.
Ok, I will say it. You are thinking that this blog is no different. It is my private soap box to talk about anything I want. It can be my online journal, news magazine, or anything in between. True in one sense, but not true in a very significant way. I don’t know who, if anyone, reads these words. I am metaphorically posting my musings on a telephone pole in cyberspace. You can stop and read them or just pass by. Another big difference is that what I write here is the result of some thought. It isn’t just “what are you doing now”. It’s structured and represents something I would like to share with you. And you don’t have to respond or let me know you ever read it. Kind of like standing naked in a hotel window. Maybe someone saw you, but you won’t ever know who.
I am not very happy so far with my forey into social media. I don’t know how social it really is. Once I agree to be your “friend”, am I expected to read every inane comment on your page? Am I now obligated to record for your entertainment ever detail of mine? Holy crap! Some people have hundreds, maybe thousands of “friend”. What does that mean? Are they so busy involving themselves with their “friends” that they stop having real lives? Stay tuned…or become my “friend”.