[LINK] Like it or not, we're in the grip of a digital Stockholm syndrome

[David Boxall]

Yet more reason to be happy that I don't "get" Facebook.

 From 
<http://www.nationaltimes.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/like-it-or-not-were-in-the-grip-of-a-digital-stockholm-syndrome-20110612-1fz0b.html>:
Facebook users may complain about the social networking site but they 
just can't let go, writes Alexandra Petri.

I am a citizen of the world's third most populous country - closing in 
on 700 million, to be exact. We have our own language (English/Pirate 
English), our own currency (Likes), and our own flag.

Every few years we threaten to leave. ''I don't like the way things are 
going,'' we say. ''Stop rearranging everything without telling or asking 
me.''

But they stop us at the border, every time, holding all our loved ones 
hostage. ''You want this memory, don't you?'' they ask. ''And this 
picture! And how will you 'Like' things when you leave?''
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We shudder. And we stay. The country's name is Facebook. Its nationals? 
Friends. Citizenship in this country allows us to be at home anywhere in 
the world.

It's the one country where people actively try to keep their parents 
from immigrating after them. ''Nonsense, mother,'' we insist. ''You have 
everything you need where you are.''

Once you are in, you are everyone's Friend. Since immigrating in high 
school, I've had no desire to leave. Why would I? Everything I need is 
here. My Friends. People I hardly know - also Friends.

This is not the way the country has always looked. The topography 
changes, swiftly, when you least expect it. Midway through the night, 
your rights are rearranged. Suddenly everyone and his internet-equipped 
dog can see everything you post - unless you dash off to change your 
settings. Facebook privacy? It's the new oxymoron, like jumbo shrimp.

Last week they slipped in a new program, a facial recognition software 
that suggests tagging pictures of yourself that had previously slipped 
below the radar. We complained. But we stayed put. We don't want to be 
untagged and released into the wild. All our Friends live in the zoo!

Facebook is a country founded on the fear that undergirds modern life: 
the suspicion that everyone is off somewhere else having more fun than 
you are and you will turn around and miss it. This is true, because you 
are spending all your time on Facebook.

The funny thing about Facebook is that it is turning our real friends 
into virtual Friends. Did I go to your birthday party? No, but I wrote a 
nice note on your Wall saying I approved of it. Did you come to my 
shower? No, but you responded ''maybe attending''.

That story of the woman who tattooed her Facebook friends on her arm may 
be false, but it's true that Facebook is making us wear more of our 
lives on our sleeves. It reduces communication to the level of the press 
release. It is actively making us less capable of interaction. We are 
training ourselves not to comprehend the rich symphony of non-verbal 
cues that used to comprise human interaction. ''He's smiling at me,'' we 
type. ''What can it mean?''

''I wish there was a 'Like' button in real life,'' we scream.

We keep forgetting we are the product, not the consumer. If someone is 
offering you a carrot you did not pay for, chances are there is a stick 
somewhere. Facebook retains our loyalty because what we receive in 
exchange can never be lost. All the memories and photographs and 
accretions of friendship have been neatly packaged where we can visit 
them on our iPhones from anywhere.

Leave it all with us, Facebook hisses, and you'll never need to worry 
again. If your house burns down, we'll keep your pictures safe. If your 
cat dies, we'll erect a shrine. If your friends move across the country, 
we'll tell you what they're doing every day.

''You can take it with you,'' Facebook says. ''We are your passport to 
the past, your home away from home, the country where you will always be 
welcome.''

''What's the catch?'' we ask.

''And it's free,'' they say.

''What's the catch?''

Sometimes a voice whispers in my ear that we can carry it with us 
everywhere because it amounts to nothing. But what do disembodied voices 
know?

So this week when I noticed all those undiscovered pictures were set to 
be tagged, I shrugged and rolled over. Complain? Why should I? Quit? Never!

Why bother running? You'll never make it past the border.

Alexandra Petri writes the ComPost blog at washingtonpost.com.

-- 
David Boxall                         | "Cheer up" they said.
                                     | "Things could be worse."
http://david.boxall.id.au            | So I cheered up and,
                                     | Sure enough, things got worse.
                                     |              --Murphy's musing