On September 12, as far as Facebook is concerned I won’t exist. Yesterday, I permanently deleted my Facebook account. I let go of 300,000 followers, 1200 friends and the blue seal of authenticity. It took me a full year to cut the cord, so to speak.
I took a Facebook vacation about a year ago. It became a long break. And now it is a permanent vacation. Why? Because I don’t need it and don’t miss it. I left, not because of the company’s dodgy approach to privacy, data accumulation or its continued denial of its impact on shaping modern society. I left because it was making me someone I am not — someone who lives life through the eyes of others. There is a hard edge in Facebook life. People are always fronting — putting their best life forward. Just like startup life these days.
I look back, a year later, I have focused on my circle of happiness and making it stronger. There is a small group on Telegram where we keep in touch, and other times it is personal interactions. You know, #irl. This was a personal decision, just as it is a choice to stay on Twitter — that’s where news is at and I am a news junkie at heart. I am on Instagram, but don’t use stories.
IG Stories have the same fronting aspect as the Facebook Feed — some day it will become the new new News Feed. More fronting, just with better videos, and selfies. I love beautiful photography and there is a lot of that on IG. Where else can I gawk at the work of some of my favorite photographers. IG is owned by Facebook, and it does all the shifty things it’s parent does — tracking, manipulating, popularity driven algorithms, and lack of empathy. But good lord, there is some beautiful art there too.
I have started a photo blog — where I cross post all photos I share on Instagram. I think it is a matter of time, before it becomes my primary spot for sharing photos.
But back to Facebook: there is no coming back.
September 1, 2018, San Francisco