When it comes to Facebook, we seem to be experts at something we may not fully comprehend.
Do you know how to upload pictures to Facebook and tag friends? Probably. But did you know each of the 2.7 billion photos Facebook users have posted online is licensed to Facebook for its perpetual and transferable use, distribution or public display? Even after you die, according to the terms you agreed upon, Facebook may retain your profile “under a special memorialized status for a period of time determined by us to allow other users to post and view comments.” The Facebook Beacon program uses your consumer habits as individualized advertisements to your friends, broadcasting your online purchases made on other websites to the Facebook News Feed. Almost worse, 80 percent of people do not know they can limit who sees their profile. With Facebook now the fifth most popular website in the country, isn’t it time we reevaluate our impulsive need to literally give corporate marketers our personal pictures and private information? Moreover, as the first generation that has grown up using the Internet, how has this affected us?
Some anthropologists have pointed to the internalization of an American Idol mentality. We are so consumed with celebrities and the dream of becoming one that we subconsciously grasp for any chace at stardom. By continually publicizing our behavior, our pictures, and whatever makes us special, we emulate the celebrities on television by turning our personal lives into a public tabloid. On the other hand, British journalist John Humphrys says he believes the phenomenon is more of a mass regression into childlike behavior. We are children lost in imagination, spending countless hours playing with our avatars and online profiles to better realize our fantasies. Both theories have merit, but the consequences of such behavior might be more important than the origins.
In a stunning article about the rise and reach of Facebook, Ari Melber of The Nation finds, “social networking sites are rupturing the traditional conception of privacy and priming a new generation for complacency in a surveillance society.” Already, major domestic government spying programs following Sept. 11 have relied on information supplied by corporate partners in the telecommunication industry. There is no evidence that corporate-owned social networking websites will act any differently. Facebook has proven more than willing to sell our private information to the highest bidder. And yet, Facebook still adds several hundred thousand new users every day.
Many of us know that University Police bust parties found through postings on Facebook. If members of the local police department are savvy enough to probe Facebook for people they think might be engaging in criminal behavior, any police force with greater resources could do much more. A few years ago, Secret Service agents visited a University of Oklahoma student after he made a comment in the Facebook group “Bush Sucks.” Think about all the communication you’ve done online. Now how would it look blown up by a projector on the wall of a courtroom?
Outside privacy concerns, the risk of dependency on Internet social activity is the way it sedates us. Instead of proactive efforts, too often we find ourselves relegating our time to frivolous online pursuits. By doing so, we retreat into passivity by forging new identities and images in a digital world.
So is online virtual reality a modern opiate of the masses, numbing us from the maladies of life? Consider the following: A high school dropout working as a cashier can go home and log in to the massively popular online game of Second Life to overcome the dullness of her daily routine. There, she can fulfill any fantasy, have the perfect body and become a top runway model with dozens of online fans. A carefully manicured MySpace profile can allow the most introverted person to have thousands of “friends.” A lonely 45-year-old bachelor can sit at home in his apartment, “questing” on World of Warcraft for years without ever finishing the game. And at the end of the day, even when we are distressed about our government’s infringement on our personal liberties, we can now replace authentic acts of civic engagement by simply joining an aptly named Facebook group.
Screw building a movement. Let’s update our Facebook profiles.
Lee Fang is a senior government and politics major. He can be reached at lhfang@gmail.com.