Facebook’s Existential Crisis: To “Like” Or Not To “Like”
April, 2015 Update:
Much as I try, I just can’t “like” Facebook. The topic seems entirely outdated – as in, why is she even (still, no less) debating a social media fact of life in 21st century America? Well I’m done wrestling with the virtues of Facebook. They are few, and they are rarely satisfying.
Every person I know has accepted the utility of Facebook, and while I want to discover how to transform it from a prevalence of wasted time, I would settle for reduced dread at sign-on. To avoid massive time-suckage, I’m encouraged to treat Facebook not exactly like a series of one-night-stands, but closer to… passing flings with familiar faces. Repetitive drive-bys.
Maybe I want Facebook to be something it isn’t, whereas over here, on the still-surprisingly-fringe edges, I can accept (and therefore love) Twitter for exactly what it is. *Special appreciation shout out to the lowered personal expectations.
See Facebook, I'm going to give you the unearned benefit of the doubt and take all of the responsibility: it’s not you, it’s me.
Last week, I furiously scribbled three pages of notes for this blog update, but they were harsh. Too harsh. Unnecessarily scathing for a woman who sincerely appreciates the art of a well-worded scathing. My notes on Facebook did not resemble a rational or fair pro vs. con list (as I had intended) but rather all of the reasons Twitter and I get along better.
Facebook is like that successful guy you’re supposed to want to date, but you just can’t keep your mind off the beautiful freak in the corner. Twitter is my freak. And I can’t have the Facebook father of social media marginalizing (with its mere presence) the mangled beauty of the Twittersphere. Thus, because my loyalties are entrenched elsewhere, I reject your pressures, Facebook.
While I want to care about you, and even more pronounced, everyone else wants me to care about you, my affections are firmly on Twitter’s side. My first social media crush was Twitter. Add to that my crush’s sustained ability to not get all touchy when I forget to “favorite”, and Twitter had me at the first entirely inappropriate tweet flung my way.
I would even push the polluted “like” button for Twitter, especially since I know it would never ask that of me. #soulmates
November, 2014
Brand new to the world of social media, I have many concerns, but the Facebook fact of life that freaks me out most of all is this: What the hell is up with the “like” button?
Yes, I am aware, 2004 called, and Facebook wants its business model back, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering if the inference is to either “like” or shut up. I could possibly be on the side of an argument for an equally timid “dislike” button to keep us honest.
What am I supposed to be doing here? Distinguishing posts I “like” from those... about which I am ambivalent... or didn’t catch in the torrent of posts... or actively dislike? To what end? Help!
Facebook makes affirmation easy, but I worry about the reverse... what it means if I fail to give a virtual pat on the back. (Hard to imagine anyone noticing.) If pressing “like” is something we do for others, maybe we should interpret this incessant peer pressure as a reminder to compliment others more in our offline lives.
I tested out the “like” function face-to-face with a friend’s twelve-year-old son I will call David, to protect him from the various ways I embarrass him by, you know, being a crazy grown up.
“Hey, I really LIKE your shirt.”
(Silence.)
“Oh, and I LIKE your shoes a lot too.
(Silence coupled with confused look.)
“I LIKE your hair in your new class photos.
“Have you gone crazy, Jen?”
“Possibly, with all of this relentless pressure to like everything on Facebook. What if I LOVE a post? There isn’t a button for that, is there?”
“Well, you could just comment about whatever you love, and tell them why.”
“Oh, you mean actually communicate... THAT does not appear to be the point! Seriously, is Facebook’s ‘like’ button trying to break up my love affair with the English language?”
He rolled his eyes at me and left the room. And then I dramatically shouted “I SHALL RESIST!” as if resistance was crucial and meaningful, leaving the impression that I am even stranger than he thought I was before the interaction.
What exactly makes this behavior any less odd when it takes place online? Clearly, I am overthinking this, however until I hear otherwise, I will assume everyone who is brave enough to suffer through my early stages of Facebook participation will be kind enough to pre-agree to the following:
➢ I “like” adorable child photos, because, I mean, what kind of monster doesn’t like an image of a happy kid?
➢ I “like” good news, including the aforementioned, heart-warming kid pics... but not so much if I don’t know you, in which case I am neutral.
➢ I ”like” bad news, if in furtherance of awareness and is important to share.
➢ I clearly “like” whatever I post.
Cool?
And, oh hell no, Facebook, why is there even an option to “like” your own posts? Do people actively share posts they don’t “like”?!
Please understand that if I do not manage to make it to the “like” button, chances are this has nothing to do with my feelings about, the level of attention to, nor the likeability of the post. And shouldn’t we all assume “like” until we are told differently?
Ha, and they say I’m a cynic...
https://twitter.com/webmistressJH
Much as I try, I just can’t “like” Facebook. The topic seems entirely outdated – as in, why is she even (still, no less) debating a social media fact of life in 21st century America? Well I’m done wrestling with the virtues of Facebook. They are few, and they are rarely satisfying.
Every person I know has accepted the utility of Facebook, and while I want to discover how to transform it from a prevalence of wasted time, I would settle for reduced dread at sign-on. To avoid massive time-suckage, I’m encouraged to treat Facebook not exactly like a series of one-night-stands, but closer to… passing flings with familiar faces. Repetitive drive-bys.
Maybe I want Facebook to be something it isn’t, whereas over here, on the still-surprisingly-fringe edges, I can accept (and therefore love) Twitter for exactly what it is. *Special appreciation shout out to the lowered personal expectations.
See Facebook, I'm going to give you the unearned benefit of the doubt and take all of the responsibility: it’s not you, it’s me.
Last week, I furiously scribbled three pages of notes for this blog update, but they were harsh. Too harsh. Unnecessarily scathing for a woman who sincerely appreciates the art of a well-worded scathing. My notes on Facebook did not resemble a rational or fair pro vs. con list (as I had intended) but rather all of the reasons Twitter and I get along better.
Facebook is like that successful guy you’re supposed to want to date, but you just can’t keep your mind off the beautiful freak in the corner. Twitter is my freak. And I can’t have the Facebook father of social media marginalizing (with its mere presence) the mangled beauty of the Twittersphere. Thus, because my loyalties are entrenched elsewhere, I reject your pressures, Facebook.
While I want to care about you, and even more pronounced, everyone else wants me to care about you, my affections are firmly on Twitter’s side. My first social media crush was Twitter. Add to that my crush’s sustained ability to not get all touchy when I forget to “favorite”, and Twitter had me at the first entirely inappropriate tweet flung my way.
I would even push the polluted “like” button for Twitter, especially since I know it would never ask that of me. #soulmates
November, 2014
Brand new to the world of social media, I have many concerns, but the Facebook fact of life that freaks me out most of all is this: What the hell is up with the “like” button?
Yes, I am aware, 2004 called, and Facebook wants its business model back, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering if the inference is to either “like” or shut up. I could possibly be on the side of an argument for an equally timid “dislike” button to keep us honest.
What am I supposed to be doing here? Distinguishing posts I “like” from those... about which I am ambivalent... or didn’t catch in the torrent of posts... or actively dislike? To what end? Help!
Facebook makes affirmation easy, but I worry about the reverse... what it means if I fail to give a virtual pat on the back. (Hard to imagine anyone noticing.) If pressing “like” is something we do for others, maybe we should interpret this incessant peer pressure as a reminder to compliment others more in our offline lives.
I tested out the “like” function face-to-face with a friend’s twelve-year-old son I will call David, to protect him from the various ways I embarrass him by, you know, being a crazy grown up.
“Hey, I really LIKE your shirt.”
(Silence.)
“Oh, and I LIKE your shoes a lot too.
(Silence coupled with confused look.)
“I LIKE your hair in your new class photos.
“Have you gone crazy, Jen?”
“Possibly, with all of this relentless pressure to like everything on Facebook. What if I LOVE a post? There isn’t a button for that, is there?”
“Well, you could just comment about whatever you love, and tell them why.”
“Oh, you mean actually communicate... THAT does not appear to be the point! Seriously, is Facebook’s ‘like’ button trying to break up my love affair with the English language?”
He rolled his eyes at me and left the room. And then I dramatically shouted “I SHALL RESIST!” as if resistance was crucial and meaningful, leaving the impression that I am even stranger than he thought I was before the interaction.
What exactly makes this behavior any less odd when it takes place online? Clearly, I am overthinking this, however until I hear otherwise, I will assume everyone who is brave enough to suffer through my early stages of Facebook participation will be kind enough to pre-agree to the following:
➢ I “like” adorable child photos, because, I mean, what kind of monster doesn’t like an image of a happy kid?
➢ I “like” good news, including the aforementioned, heart-warming kid pics... but not so much if I don’t know you, in which case I am neutral.
➢ I ”like” bad news, if in furtherance of awareness and is important to share.
➢ I clearly “like” whatever I post.
Cool?
And, oh hell no, Facebook, why is there even an option to “like” your own posts? Do people actively share posts they don’t “like”?!
Please understand that if I do not manage to make it to the “like” button, chances are this has nothing to do with my feelings about, the level of attention to, nor the likeability of the post. And shouldn’t we all assume “like” until we are told differently?
Ha, and they say I’m a cynic...
https://twitter.com/webmistressJH
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Melonie
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Nov 04, 2014 06:43AM
Clearly, you've not discovered the adorable kitten dreaming and mewing in her sleep video. Or the two idiot guys trying to break into a building, throwing a brick through the window and having it bounce back and knock them out. And...
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