Jan 14, 2011
It may be a bit foolish to kick sand in the face of a behemoth with over a half a billion friends and a company behind him that is estimated to be worth $50 billion dollars; however, one can always hope to be a modern David. So, with the faith that in God all things are possible and with the courage of Quixote, I again throw down the gauntlet before the goliath Mr. Zuckerberg and lower my lance at the empty windmill that is Facebook.
To date, my only victory in the fight with Facebook and its creator is the ransoming of my daughter from the network. This took a second intervention over Christmas break because her teachers and friends, all of whom I think are suffering from Stockholm syndrome, had convinced her to rejoin for academic and social reasons. Thankfully, I was able to detoxify her of the false belief that there is no life without Facebook and was proud to watch her hit the delete button a few days before the end of vacation.
In a broader attack, while attending a speed-think conference on technology held by a friend who has proven to be a guru on forecasting what will stay and go in the constantly changing world of technology, I proffered that social networking would stay, but Facebook would be punished as a brand. It would go. This would be the price, I said, for being the first and most unabashed violator of privacy.
I remain confident that Zuckerberg and Facebook will someday pay the price for their hubristic attack on personal privacy. But I must admit that his recent selection as TIME’s Person of the Year and the company’s securing of $500 million additional dollars in investment are clear setbacks in my campaign. To add to my woes, the honor of Person of the Year came complete with a PR makeover by TIME’s popular Lev Grossman, who all but gushes as he paints Zuckerberg as the Beaver with genius. Hopefully, this is only a temporary boom before the bust.
However, there is some hope for my cause in the article. Grossman, though he adamantly denies any connection between the real Zuckerberg and the Sorkin-created, malevolent, vindictive schemer Zuckerberg of the unauthorized biopic “The Social Network,” admits that the boy genius “does have a blind spot when it comes to personal privacy…” As we all know from driving, it’s what is in the blind spot that gets you. Score one for David.
Grossman also sheds a bit of light on the negative social fallout from networks like Facebook, albeit late in the article. He points out that more than three-quarters of the members of The American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers report a recent increase in divorce involving social networking, and two-thirds cite Facebook “as the primary source of online divorce evidence.” Funny, embezzlement also went up with riverboat casinos and they have turned out to be such charming social centers, too.
Grossman also quickly covers the possibility that Facebooking can be addictive — duh! What else can explain the 700 billion minutes spent monthly on Facebook? That is the equivalent of 15.7 million people being on Facebook every minute of their lives. The result of this massive dedication to self-promotion and social networking is that youth are more narcissistic and less concerned for others than ever. I thought only real drugs could isolate an adolescent and make him or her stare into space.
What’s my problem with Zuckerberg and his virtual meet and greet machine? I still believe that there is more pathology than genius in the mix when it comes to Facebook. A social network can be as morally neutral as a bar or a library. It all depends on the culture of the place, which is decided by both the owner and the frequenters. I think Facebook is a pick-up joint run by a pusher using the enticements of self-promotion, acceptance and gossip to cover his tracks into the personal lives he mines for cash.
It is the very youth of those involved, again as creators and users, that hides this darker, meaner side of the blunt instrument Zuckerberg has developed. Maybe it takes a little maturity to see Facebook for what it is, just like it does to tell the difference between a social drink with friends and Everclear laced trashcan punch at a frat party.