Wednesday, August 4, 2010

The Disposable Friend

Social networking has had, without a doubt, a net positive effect on our lives.  However, if I had to pick my biggest regret about this technology, it would be that it has caused us to distort the meaning of the word "friend."  When you meet someone in real life, you would probably not immediately consider them a "friend."  A "friend" is someone you genuinely care about and whose company you genuinely enjoy and actively seek ... and vice versa.  If the feeling isn't mutual, then the person is not your friend.  If being around someone is a chore, then you are not their friend.  If someone invites you into their life but you don't want to be there, then you are not their friend.  If you feel that you only have to be nice to someone because of what they can potentially do for you, then you are not their friend.

If I could change one thing on Facebook, it would be the misuse of the term "friend" to describe people on your contact list.  Really, how many of your Facebook "friends" meet the above description?  Probably very few.  How many people that you call your "friends" in real life even meet the above description?  How many people could you really count on if you needed them?  How many people could really count on you if they needed you?  When I think of the people who I could call if, for instance, I were bleeding to death and needed a ride to the hospital, the list fits on the fingers of both hands (as they say, a friend will help you move, but a real friend will help you move ... a body.)

I have 300 Facebook "friends", which is not really a lot compared to some people, but when I look at that list, I see a lot of people with whom I really have no relationship in real life.  There is nothing wrong with that, in and of itself, and sometimes it can be a blessing in disguise.  On rare occasions, I discover that I have something in common with someone I didn't really know outside of Facebook, and we can use that as the foundation for a friendship in real life.  Other times, however, too much information about a person is not a good thing, and it can have the opposite effect, driving a wedge between two people who got along fine in real life.  Facebook is sort of like a virtual cocktail party with hundreds of people, but each of those people can hear every word you say.  Thus, it is inevitable that, unless everyone keeps their guard up, someone is eventually going to get offended.  To be clear, I'm not preaching about any mistakes that I haven't myself made 100 times.  The more I participate in Facebook, though, the more I realize that, unless I'm going to limit my Facebook contacts to just people I know well (and where's the fun in that?), then I have to avoid saying anything on Facebook that I wouldn't also say to a room full of people I barely know.  At this point, I have to ask myself whether the person I present to people on Facebook is really me anymore.

I started using computers to do social networking in the 1980's, before the term "social networking" was even invented.  We had what were called "dial-up bulletin board systems" (BBS's) back then.  A handful of people would set up a second phone line and a dedicated computer (usually a Commodore 64 or an IBM PC) in their house, and they would use this computer to run a special type of server software whose feature set bears more than a passing resemblance to Facebook.  Unlike Facebook, however, only one user at a time could log in and post things, and other users would have to wait for them to disconnect so they could log in and respond to the posts.  BBS's had online games (a proto-Mafia Wars, even), file sharing, and online chat, although the only person you could chat with was the SysOp (system operator.)

There were a few big differences between the group dynamics of these BBS's and modern social networking, however.  The first difference was that BBS users were almost all local, so if you found out that you had something in common with one of them, it was pretty easy to meet up in person.  The second difference was that you always had something in common with the users of the BBS, just by virtue of being a user of the BBS.  Not many people participated in these forums, so it was a very tight-knit community.  Pretty much all of my close friends in high school came from this community.  We would frequently get together to swap software and work on our computers, and sometimes we'd even take weekend trips up to the lake so we could swap software and work on our computers in a more scenic environment.  The third difference was that there was a sense of accountability.  You didn't want to offend anyone in the community, because there was a good chance that you would either be barred from one or more of the BBS's (of which there were few) or that you'd have to face that person in real life at some point.  Most BBS's set up dedicated (and usually anonymous) fight areas in which users could let out their aggressions, with the understanding that nothing said in those areas was to be taken personally.

Flash forward two decades, and social networking is no longer just a hobby for shy geeks who have trouble meeting people through "normal" means.  Now, social networking is one of the most common ways in which we interact with people, particularly if you're a member of Generation X or younger.  Social networking is a great tool, but like any tool, it can be misused.  I tend to fall into the trap as well, and posting this is, as much as anything, a way of reminding myself not to.  The problem with the advent of online relationships is that it has created a phenomenon that I will refer to as "the disposable friend."  This is not just Facebook's fault-- it is a trend among our society in general.  Ease of contact with a variety of people gives us a false sense of friendship.  We are led to believe that we have a ton of friends, so why should we bother to put any effort into any one relationship?  Why should we compromise?  Why should we resolve any differences we may have with one of them?  If someone starts annoying us, we can just ignore their e-mails, send all of their calls to voice mail, and pretend they don't exist.  If we're really annoyed, then we can defriend or even block them on Facebook.  We are no longer required to settle our differences with people in our personal lives.  We can choose to congregate only with people who agree with us, and these congregations will then become more and more polarized, insular, and elite.  However, when we choose to do this, we run the risk of creating what Vonnegut, through the voice of Bokonon, called a "granfalloon."  A granfalloon is a group of people who appear to have something in common on the surface but whose relationship with each other is actually shallow and meaningless.  Contrast that with Bokonon's "karass", which is a group of people who are working toward the same goal, even though they may not know it yet.  These days, when we have interactions with someone from outside our enclave, we often don't even attempt to find common ground with them.  Why should we?  We can retreat to our enclave and find plenty of people-- and even entire TV networks and publications-- that make us comfortable by agreeing with everything we say.  But are the people in our enclaves really our friends?

Facebook is, in some ways, an effective means of breaking down cultural barriers and exposing ourselves to new ideas.  However, if we forget the cocktail party analogy, Facebook can also tend to amplify and distort the differences between us.  For instance, I've spent entire weeks enjoying the wilderness with people whose politics I know are 180 degrees apart from mine.  We simply didn't discuss politics, and everything was fine.  However, when we friended each other on Facebook, we got into knock-down, drag-out debates on each other's walls.  Sometimes too much information about a person is not a good thing, and sometimes it is entirely possible to have a meaningful relationship with someone in real life with whom you could never get along on Facebook.  That was one of the first things that we learned from the BBS's-- people's online personalities are rarely the same as their in-person personalities.

Another thing we learned pretty early on was the importance of face time in cementing a friendship-- as well as establishing accountability.  You could chat with someone for hours and still not really know them as a person.  It wasn't until you met them in person that you figured out what they were really made of.  From that point on, whenever you saw their handle on the BBS, you could relate it to a real flesh-and-blood form, to someone who had real feelings.  Before that point, it was all too easy to say something online that you would never say in person.  The importance of face time hasn't changed in our modern society, but what has changed is the frequency of it.  Even with the BBS's, you'd probably interact with at least some of the users in person several times a year (and some of us hung out with each other several times a week.)  However, I've had two jobs in the last ten years in which I've seen my boss in person less often than this.

Enter social networking tools like Meetup, which are geared solely toward creating face time among people with whom you share a common interest.  Sometimes these relationships evolve into true karasses, and other times, into granfalloons.  However, until you have that face time, there is no way to be sure.  Facebook seems to lend itself more toward creating granfalloons than karasses, and I think a lot of that hinges on our misuse of the word "friend".  Facebook was originally intended as a platform for people who already had a relationship in real life to keep in touch with each other and find out more about each other.  However, most people (self included) don't use it in that manner.  We use it as a sort of "acquaintance aggregator", so being someone's "friend" on Facebook isn't the same as being their friend in real life.  Yet, the use of the word "friend" conveys a sort of artificial status to the relationship.  Be honest with yourself-- do you get offended if someone defriends you on Facebook?  Probably so, even though that person may or may not have met any stretch of the definition of the word "friend" in real life.

There are pretty much only three things that will make me defriend someone on Facebook:  (1) posting offensive (particularly racist) material, (2) using information gathered from my Facebook wall against me in real life, and (3) engaging in personal or ad hominem attacks (i.e. not fighting fair.)  I've defriended a total of 8 people in my FB career, 6 for these reasons and 2 that were collateral damage.  Most of them were people I barely knew or did not know at all in real life, and I had always wondered why they wanted to be my Facebook friends in the first place.  However, a couple of them were people with whom I did have a relationship in real life, and unfortunately, Facebook drove a wedge between us.  Sometimes, too much information about a person is not a good thing.  Friending someone on Facebook does not make them your friend in real life.  Likewise, defriending someone on Facebook does not mean you can't be friends in real life.  It just means that, for whatever reason, you don't want to read someone's innermost thoughts, or you don't want them reading yours.

If you were in a room full of people and you knew a lot of them disagreed with you, you would tend to tread lightly with respect to certain issues.  You probably wouldn't put up a big sign in one corner that said the president was a socialist or that people who don't subscribe to your religion are un-American, unless you were deliberately trying to make people mad or drive out those who disagreed with you.  A friend would do neither.  Friendship is knowing that someone disagrees with you but wanting to hang out with them anyway.  It is respecting differences in opinion and trying to work past them and make the other person feel comfortable, because you know that there is more that you like about them than dislike.  Friendship is being honest and upfront when someone does something to tick you off, rather than just ignoring them and hoping they will figure out what they did wrong.

In short, I think that I have gained more from Facebook than I have lost, but I truly regret what I have lost as well.  If you've read this far, then I'm genuinely surprised, so I will just conclude by saying that social networking, if used correctly, can be a great tool for building real-life friendships.   If used incorrectly, however, it can also be an effective means of destroying them.  Facebook is never a substitute for face time.  Tread lightly.