(no subject)
I read an article on the NY Times website today about "ambient awareness" - the sociological term for Facebook's effect on social dynamics. Apparently there is now a phenomenon called "Twitter," which is basically the Facebook status update turned into a self-sustained concept. I encourage you to read as much of the article as you have patience for; I generally only read the first page or so of Times articles, and I got all the way through this one:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/07/magazine/07awareness-t.html?hp
I deleted my own Facebook account two months ago. I had two main reasons for doing this, one practical and one philosophical. The practical implication of leaving Facebook should be obvious to anyone who has used it as a procrastination method: less of my time is wasted studying the minutiae of my friends' lives. The philosophical reason was based on my belief that Facebook is to social interaction what caffeine is to sleep: surfing Facebook is a semi-social consolation in lonely moments, but the relief is shallow and temporary; if you really want to feel connected you need face-to-face contact.
My friends' reaction to this decision was in some cases cynical, but always congratulatory. Even those who didn't think I could stand to be away from it thought I was noble to resist the habit. After a month, I've had very few urges to log back on, and, though I haven't taken any numbers down, I think I've generally gotten the effect I wanted. I read more than I used to. When I wake up early to do write or do homework, I get to the work sooner. I haven't exactly kicked the habit of wasting time on the web, but when I do it's usually on the blogs of Hendrick Hertzberg (http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/hendrikhertzberg) or Jeff Strabone (http://jeffstrabone.blogspot.com/), undeniably more substantive distractions than NewsFeed.
But what about personal relationships? My stated justification for leaving Facebook was to preen myself of non-friends and to deepen 'real' friendships. All that's happened is that I'm less aware of my acquaintances than I once was. Real friendships - people with whom I actively seek face time, or who I call to check up on when I can - haven't changed recognizably. Perhaps even those will see some decay: I only have so much time to call people; will I get back to Iowa City in December and find myself more distant than I was from the people that once knew me best?
I regard that as a mild concern at worst. If I'm slipping away from people I care about I will make a better effort to stay in touch. What concerns me (slightly) more is the theme of the Times article above, namely, that 21st century connectivity is more than a way for teenagers to gossip; it is reshaping the social world permanently, and not all for the worse. By abstaining from Facebook I am making myself remote from, arguably, the defining social reform of my generation.
Granted, I'm not much of a 21st century person. I listen to classical music and jazz; 95% or more of my music library consists of the dead or dying. The things I love best about New York City are the things that really blossomed in the 60s and 70s: the grit and passion of crime-ridden Manhattan, the art madhouse of the West Village. I like tangible reading material, shooting on film stock, and listening to the radio. More and more I feel like I was born 50 years too late (grateful as I am not to have suffered from, say, the draft, or 1950s orthodontia). Overall, I find the 21st century has begun with a spectacle of very poor taste - musically, socially, artistically, politically... architecturally...
Maybe the thing I like best about freedom from Facebook is the idea that the Times reporter touches
on in the last couple of pages, the notion that by constantly articulating yourself you get to know yourself better. I disagree with this. Facebook only gives you the opportunity to hone self-image; it makes you decide what you want to declare about yourself. My friend said something funny - does it deserve a place in my Favorite Quotes? Recently I've gotten into the plays of Edward Albee - does he belong in the pantheon of Favorite Books? Moods, interests, and relationships are made official by their broadcast on one's profile page. To abstain from updating this information is to allow the existing profile to become obsolete. Of course, it's an option to leave the fields blank, as I did for several months, but if that's your bent I'd suggest abandoning it altogether, since a mostly-blank profile page reflects on you as well. Even after I deleted my personal information I assumed that anyone who did so was probably withdrawn, mistrustful, shy, etc.
A lot of good goes with the bad. Ideas can be promulgated as never before; Big Media is straining to keep up with the masses, and I hope it stays that way. Ultimately, how much your Facebook profile does for your identity, social life, or procrastination habits is up to you; I found it a shallow, obsession-breeding waste of time, so I quit. That I'm not participating in my own century is, so far, not much concern to me.
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/07/magazine/07awareness-t.html?hp
I deleted my own Facebook account two months ago. I had two main reasons for doing this, one practical and one philosophical. The practical implication of leaving Facebook should be obvious to anyone who has used it as a procrastination method: less of my time is wasted studying the minutiae of my friends' lives. The philosophical reason was based on my belief that Facebook is to social interaction what caffeine is to sleep: surfing Facebook is a semi-social consolation in lonely moments, but the relief is shallow and temporary; if you really want to feel connected you need face-to-face contact.
My friends' reaction to this decision was in some cases cynical, but always congratulatory. Even those who didn't think I could stand to be away from it thought I was noble to resist the habit. After a month, I've had very few urges to log back on, and, though I haven't taken any numbers down, I think I've generally gotten the effect I wanted. I read more than I used to. When I wake up early to do write or do homework, I get to the work sooner. I haven't exactly kicked the habit of wasting time on the web, but when I do it's usually on the blogs of Hendrick Hertzberg (http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/hendrikhertzberg) or Jeff Strabone (http://jeffstrabone.blogspot.com/), undeniably more substantive distractions than NewsFeed.
But what about personal relationships? My stated justification for leaving Facebook was to preen myself of non-friends and to deepen 'real' friendships. All that's happened is that I'm less aware of my acquaintances than I once was. Real friendships - people with whom I actively seek face time, or who I call to check up on when I can - haven't changed recognizably. Perhaps even those will see some decay: I only have so much time to call people; will I get back to Iowa City in December and find myself more distant than I was from the people that once knew me best?
I regard that as a mild concern at worst. If I'm slipping away from people I care about I will make a better effort to stay in touch. What concerns me (slightly) more is the theme of the Times article above, namely, that 21st century connectivity is more than a way for teenagers to gossip; it is reshaping the social world permanently, and not all for the worse. By abstaining from Facebook I am making myself remote from, arguably, the defining social reform of my generation.
Granted, I'm not much of a 21st century person. I listen to classical music and jazz; 95% or more of my music library consists of the dead or dying. The things I love best about New York City are the things that really blossomed in the 60s and 70s: the grit and passion of crime-ridden Manhattan, the art madhouse of the West Village. I like tangible reading material, shooting on film stock, and listening to the radio. More and more I feel like I was born 50 years too late (grateful as I am not to have suffered from, say, the draft, or 1950s orthodontia). Overall, I find the 21st century has begun with a spectacle of very poor taste - musically, socially, artistically, politically... architecturally...
Maybe the thing I like best about freedom from Facebook is the idea that the Times reporter touches
on in the last couple of pages, the notion that by constantly articulating yourself you get to know yourself better. I disagree with this. Facebook only gives you the opportunity to hone self-image; it makes you decide what you want to declare about yourself. My friend said something funny - does it deserve a place in my Favorite Quotes? Recently I've gotten into the plays of Edward Albee - does he belong in the pantheon of Favorite Books? Moods, interests, and relationships are made official by their broadcast on one's profile page. To abstain from updating this information is to allow the existing profile to become obsolete. Of course, it's an option to leave the fields blank, as I did for several months, but if that's your bent I'd suggest abandoning it altogether, since a mostly-blank profile page reflects on you as well. Even after I deleted my personal information I assumed that anyone who did so was probably withdrawn, mistrustful, shy, etc.
A lot of good goes with the bad. Ideas can be promulgated as never before; Big Media is straining to keep up with the masses, and I hope it stays that way. Ultimately, how much your Facebook profile does for your identity, social life, or procrastination habits is up to you; I found it a shallow, obsession-breeding waste of time, so I quit. That I'm not participating in my own century is, so far, not much concern to me.