Who remembers life before the internet? An early convert, I remember when I lived in Paris – 10 years ago (eek!) - how frustrating it was that no one except my dad and a handful of university friends would communicate with me by e mail. I had just spent 4 months in Florida, and hated having to communicate with my American friends via a combination of a postal service that took 5 days, or pre-scheduled telephone calls.
Fast forward 10 years. The internet is now my primary form of communication. I use it for everything: for reference, research, several-times-daily communication with friends abroad; I use it to book travel and for most of my purchases: books, music, vitamins, superfoods, underwear (Myla, please, for anyone who wants to buy me a gift), men…
And then along came Facebook; the ultimate displacement activity tool for those serial procrastinators among us. I love it, and if any of you are wondering why we blog less than we used to, it’s because we’re too busy messing around on Facebook.
I don’t want to enter into any of the pretentious debates about Facebook that are currently appearing in the media over here. I think all those journalists are embarrassingly several steps behind the zeitgeist, and need to get over themselves. For god’s sake! It’s a social networking site, to be used (or not) as you wish (and most critics succumb in the end). Users have control over the content they share as well as their own privacy, and can choose to allow – or indeed block – anyone they wish into their network.
I’m also not interested in the – now dated – debate about the deterioration of communication and physical social interaction: we’re all busier now; we travel more and work longer hours; this has as much necessitated technological growth as it has resulted from the ever-developing modes of “virtual” communication. Blah blah blah – the upshot is that this is our reality now – get with it.
What I am interested in, however, is the extent to which Facebook (and to some extent, blogging) is eroding formerly rigid social barriers. Perhaps this is a specifically British concern, but as the popularity of Facebook has grown over here, any social reticence and desire for privacy we once had has started to disappear.
Some examples:
Last night, I was at a party. As I arrived, around 1am (busy weekend), I was accosted by a guy who was leaving:
“Oh – you must be D! I recognise you from your Facebook pictures! Shame we didn’t get to meet properly – A said she’d introduce us. I have to leave now, but never mind – I’ll message you on Facebook on Monday morning! Great boots you were wearing in those pictures, by the way, hahaha!”
And then this afternoon, my friend C called, to invite me to a brunch she is hosting at the end of the month. Before she hung up, she said (and I could practically hear her winking): “By the way, my friend M from Switzerland will be in London that weekend. He’d love to meet you – he saw your picture in my list of Facebook friends and says you have a lovely smile.”
Perhaps more astonishingly, a couple of guys from the dating website have – and I have no idea how – somehow tracked me down on Facebook, and are sending me messages. And in the last few weeks, I keep on receiving unsolicited “pokes” and friend requests from people I don’t even know – they see your profile in different groups and try to befriend you.
There’s nothing wrong with any of this: I ignore the creepy ones, message/flirt with the ones I think are fun, meet the ones I find interesting – and don’t accept friend invitations from people who are not my friends! But somehow, the casualness and familiarity that results from conducting your life from the end of a computer is spilling over into real, physical interaction. And actually, I rather enjoy it. I choose not to restrict my profile on Facebook; anything I have to hide, I simply don’t share it… and I rather like the idea of being seen. I like people being direct and forward, and although it’s a bit creepy that people I don’t know have checked out my profile – and admitted it to me! – before approaching me, I have to admit, I kind of like it.
Similarly with the blog: this is a creative outlet for me, and I have only shared the address with my friend J (recently-alluded to male platonic friend, upon whom I have bestowed the dubious honour of being my unofficial dating advisor; he has witnessed my greatest neuroses, and I figured there are thus no further secrets from him; he may as well read the bloody blog). Although most of the readers don’t know me, I still control what I share about my life (this is only a projected fraction); I choose not to share particularly difficult issues until they have been resolved, and out of respect, I protect the identities of, and don’t overtly share information about, the people I really care for (um, oh dear, apart from my mum and Evil Bitch Sisters). But there’s still something that delights me about the voyeuristic aspect of sharing some of my self, my thoughts and my life on this blog.
Facebook is unnecessarily feared and ridiculed by too many people. It is what you want it to be: a bit of fun and a way to keep in touch with lots of people at once (which is what it is to me) or – to some of my friends with high profile jobs – a bit of career publicity/propaganda. You can be as private or as public as you wish, and share or hide whichever information you wish. And indeed by watched by people you wish…
Oh, and that guy I bumped into at A’s party? Great guy. Witty, intelligent, charming, lots of opinions to share and stories to tell, fun, ambitious, attractive, confident, direct, persistent, etc… dammit, he’s only another bloody right-wing lawyer with offensive, xenophobic views on immigration, desperately seeking a Stepford wife.
Next!
Fast forward 10 years. The internet is now my primary form of communication. I use it for everything: for reference, research, several-times-daily communication with friends abroad; I use it to book travel and for most of my purchases: books, music, vitamins, superfoods, underwear (Myla, please, for anyone who wants to buy me a gift), men…
And then along came Facebook; the ultimate displacement activity tool for those serial procrastinators among us. I love it, and if any of you are wondering why we blog less than we used to, it’s because we’re too busy messing around on Facebook.
I don’t want to enter into any of the pretentious debates about Facebook that are currently appearing in the media over here. I think all those journalists are embarrassingly several steps behind the zeitgeist, and need to get over themselves. For god’s sake! It’s a social networking site, to be used (or not) as you wish (and most critics succumb in the end). Users have control over the content they share as well as their own privacy, and can choose to allow – or indeed block – anyone they wish into their network.
I’m also not interested in the – now dated – debate about the deterioration of communication and physical social interaction: we’re all busier now; we travel more and work longer hours; this has as much necessitated technological growth as it has resulted from the ever-developing modes of “virtual” communication. Blah blah blah – the upshot is that this is our reality now – get with it.
What I am interested in, however, is the extent to which Facebook (and to some extent, blogging) is eroding formerly rigid social barriers. Perhaps this is a specifically British concern, but as the popularity of Facebook has grown over here, any social reticence and desire for privacy we once had has started to disappear.
Some examples:
Last night, I was at a party. As I arrived, around 1am (busy weekend), I was accosted by a guy who was leaving:
“Oh – you must be D! I recognise you from your Facebook pictures! Shame we didn’t get to meet properly – A said she’d introduce us. I have to leave now, but never mind – I’ll message you on Facebook on Monday morning! Great boots you were wearing in those pictures, by the way, hahaha!”
And then this afternoon, my friend C called, to invite me to a brunch she is hosting at the end of the month. Before she hung up, she said (and I could practically hear her winking): “By the way, my friend M from Switzerland will be in London that weekend. He’d love to meet you – he saw your picture in my list of Facebook friends and says you have a lovely smile.”
Perhaps more astonishingly, a couple of guys from the dating website have – and I have no idea how – somehow tracked me down on Facebook, and are sending me messages. And in the last few weeks, I keep on receiving unsolicited “pokes” and friend requests from people I don’t even know – they see your profile in different groups and try to befriend you.
There’s nothing wrong with any of this: I ignore the creepy ones, message/flirt with the ones I think are fun, meet the ones I find interesting – and don’t accept friend invitations from people who are not my friends! But somehow, the casualness and familiarity that results from conducting your life from the end of a computer is spilling over into real, physical interaction. And actually, I rather enjoy it. I choose not to restrict my profile on Facebook; anything I have to hide, I simply don’t share it… and I rather like the idea of being seen. I like people being direct and forward, and although it’s a bit creepy that people I don’t know have checked out my profile – and admitted it to me! – before approaching me, I have to admit, I kind of like it.
Similarly with the blog: this is a creative outlet for me, and I have only shared the address with my friend J (recently-alluded to male platonic friend, upon whom I have bestowed the dubious honour of being my unofficial dating advisor; he has witnessed my greatest neuroses, and I figured there are thus no further secrets from him; he may as well read the bloody blog). Although most of the readers don’t know me, I still control what I share about my life (this is only a projected fraction); I choose not to share particularly difficult issues until they have been resolved, and out of respect, I protect the identities of, and don’t overtly share information about, the people I really care for (um, oh dear, apart from my mum and Evil Bitch Sisters). But there’s still something that delights me about the voyeuristic aspect of sharing some of my self, my thoughts and my life on this blog.
Facebook is unnecessarily feared and ridiculed by too many people. It is what you want it to be: a bit of fun and a way to keep in touch with lots of people at once (which is what it is to me) or – to some of my friends with high profile jobs – a bit of career publicity/propaganda. You can be as private or as public as you wish, and share or hide whichever information you wish. And indeed by watched by people you wish…
Oh, and that guy I bumped into at A’s party? Great guy. Witty, intelligent, charming, lots of opinions to share and stories to tell, fun, ambitious, attractive, confident, direct, persistent, etc… dammit, he’s only another bloody right-wing lawyer with offensive, xenophobic views on immigration, desperately seeking a Stepford wife.
Next!
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