Why I Wish Facebook Would Disappear

Wouldn’t you love to have your real friends back?

You know how everybody has that one friend who’s not on Facebook? I am that friend. Sometimes people will text me screenshots of things they see on Facebook, like tossing scraps to a stray cat hiding out behind a restaurant dumpster all day.

It makes me feel weird to look at a photo of something that wasn’t intended for me to see. On one hand, I love seeing new baby photos or a video of a cute dog trying to eat an ice cube. But on the other hand, if I want to see those things, shouldn’t I just take five minutes to create my own account so I could go in and see them on my own?

Sometimes it feels absurd to not be on Facebook. During remote learning, both of my kids’ schools posted videos and activities on Facebook and encouraged parents and families to do the same. My daughter missed out on her principal doing weekly book reads and my son’s teacher posted updates about the baby chicks she incubated and raised over the spring.

I felt bad, but at the same time, no matter what you do on Facebook, you’re still just staring into a screen. While other kids were watching videos and looking at pictures, I had my kids outside really doing things like riding bikes and painting rocks. We read tons of real books, curled up in blankets on the sofa and we watched a family of bluebirds raise a family of four babies in the birdhouse next to our deck.

Years ago, Facebook served as a way to stay connected to family and friends. But, like a tsunami wave that keeps growing until it takes over everything, it’s moved on to dominate conversations about politics, involvement with schools and nonprofits, buying and selling things, and even moved into the domain of public safety.

I realized this last winter when a stray dog showed up at our house. He stayed around for a few hours, barking at our door and running around our yard. It was getting late and cold, so I called our local police department to figure out what I should do. An officer came right over to pick him up. When he did, I asked him about what type of tricky detective work he would do to find the owner. He assured me that all he had to do was post a photo of the dog on Facebook and the owner would turn up.

Sure enough, half an hour later, my neighbor texted me a screenshot the police department’s post about reuniting the dog with its family.

So if Facebook casts such a wide net, connecting people to their schools, social networks, used consumer goods and sometimes their dogs, why do I still have a problem with it?

There isn’t one single reason. Instead, there are plenty of small reasons that combine to keep me from clicking that tempting blue JOIN button. Here are a few:

Facebook is a breeding ground for negativity. If you’re on Facebook, you might be used to it. But for me, when I hear friends or coworkers talking about the drama surrounding an Uncle’s post about Trump or an ex-girlfriend’s post about true love, I scratch my head. So many people love to talk about how much they hate Facebook. And yet they keep it in their lives, as if cutting their digital tether to the toxic world of one-upmanship and faux-photos would have dire consequences.

Facebook cultivates inauthentic friendships. Sometimes I’ll be chatting with a friend and she’ll tell me about another friend’s trip to Costa Rica or something. Awesome. But when I ask a few questions, I realize my friend just saw our third friend’s posts about her trip. If you are really friends with someone, you have conversations with them. You don’t passively scan their peoples’ vacation photos and pretend you’re friends with everyone in them. If you want to see pics from my trips, you’re going to have to come over for a cookout and some beers and listen to the real story behind every single one.

Facebook steals time from hobbies and real people. Call me a dinosaur, but I feel sad when I’m at a park or by the water and everyone around me is scrolling on their phones. It’s depressing to sit at a restaurant and see couples across the table from each other, heads down looking at screens instead of face-to-face. Imagine if the millions of hours people spend looking at posts that don’t interest them was spent gardening, exercising or learning to play an instrument. Life would sure be different, wouldn’t it?

Facebook makes you live in the mode of constant curation. I have been around people who are always looking for photos or ideas to post on Facebook. Last fall, we had some friends over for a picturesque lobster dinner on our deck overlooking the water. Before we could eat, one friend needed to stage a few photos she could later post to her account. At first it felt flattering, but then I felt used, like our time together was just a stage for producing the idea of a fun evening instead of just a shared beautiful moment. I love enjoying perfect moments for myself, to fill my cup and experience the sorrow, love and joy around me. It’s annoying to be around people who use these types of moments as leverage to gain more followers or likes.

Facebook shines a spotlight on cowards. It’s not brave to make threats or hunt and peck out hate speech with your computer keyboard. You’re not a hero for slinging rhetoric or sharing your unsolicited, racist, misogynistic opinions for the world to see. I’m a fan of free speech, but Facebook gives douchebags endless airtime and it wreaks havoc on civil society.

Which brings me to my final point. I’m not saying we should censor social media or that everyone on Facebook is terrible. All I want is to wake up one day and read a headline saying Facebook has disappeared forever. The good, the bad, the stupid and the smart. Gone.

Look, I know a lot of people would be upset. People love Facebook and how it can bring together far-flung communities to support and encourage each other. Here’s the thing though: coming together as a community is what humans have done since we started walking upright five million years ago. So why do we need to outsource it to some bot that steals our data and ruins our self-esteem?

I know it’s unlikely. Facebook is a behemoth that is here to stay. But what would happen if it did disappear? Would you pick up the phone and call someone to see WTF was happening? Maybe you’d feel relief at finally ditching the dead weight of 200 people you don’t actually care about. Maybe you’re not on Facebook either, and like me, you’d be glad you won’t have to hear people talking about how much they hate it anymore!

We’ll probably never know. Until then though, keep texting me those pics. Gotta get my cute dog fix somehow.