In ten years time, we will all be required to have Facebook and Twitter accounts. By law. In truly Orwellian fashion, any dissenters will be kidnapped, incarcerated and tortured by government forces until they yield and join the cult of social networking. These misguided heretics must then take a vow to tweet and update their statuses every half hour as penance for their ignorance and cynicism.
I don’t have Facebook or Twitter. In fact, I am a recovering Facebook addict. I’ve been clean for over three years now. However, it is widely accepted amongst the scientific community that Twitbook is as integral to the facilitation of daily bodily functions as the heart or liver. This twin assault on privacy has ushered in a new repulsive era of obsession and spawned new breeds of human: one holds an uncontrollable desire to acquire inconsequential gobbets of information about others: another feeds that unrelenting thirst by inexplicably divulging every iota of their excruciatingly unremarkable lives. The sinister ascension and ubiquity of Twitbook is incredibly unsettling.
Facebook is the ultimate popularity contest. Bloated friends totals surpassing the thousand mark are laughable in authenticity. This ‘quantity over quality’ mentality is personified by the triumphant proclamations that greet the attainment of such epoch defining milestones. Updates could be met with a deafening roar of indifference, but also a saccharine belch of faux-praise and acknowledgment: demonstrating just how seriously some take the accumulation of Facebook fodder, in order to give the illusion of popularity. Profoundly vapid status updates characterise most of the content on the site: traumatic struggles choosing Friday night outfits are documented in remorseless detail, and ridiculously incisive thoughts are shared regarding that morning’s breakfast. In spite of these flaws, we find ourselves addicted- monitoring our profiles with unwavering dedication. Our self worth oscillates, in servitude to the omnipotent ‘like’ button.
Last year, a fascinating documentary by Radio 5 DJ Richard Bacon was carried out into the phenomenon of ‘cyber-trolling’. The program saw him try to uncover his vocal persecutor on Twitter, as well as understand what inspires the unremitting viciousness on these sites. Twitter has granted mortal plebs like you and I unprecedented access to celebrities. This has inevitably fuelled the public’s fascination with their inane routines. Nevertheless, while banal tweets from talent vacuums are infuriating in excelsis, the very public humiliations dished out to muggles and cultural titans alike are completely abhorrent. Protected by the thin veneer of anonymity afforded to them by t’internet, dribbling trolls embark on appalling campaigns of sanctimonious and semi-literate vitriol, fanatically ejaculated on screens against their unfortunate target in a manner that would embarrass the most hate filled Westboro Baptist Church member. Courtesy of Twitter, a particularly grim future awaits us: one where conversation has been killed, laughing has been replaced by the bland expression of ‘LOL’ and everything is preceded by a hashtag.
It would be truly ignorant to argue that social networking hasn’t revolutionised the way we communicate. However, can that transformation be called positive? The uprisings in Egypt and Tunisia in 2011 were dubbed ‘The Facebook Revolutions’, due to the organisation of protests through the medium. Nonetheless, it was the will of the people, more than Facebook itself, which brought about regime change. Social networking was also identified as a contributing factor to the spread of violence that plagued London in August 2011, as well as recent unrest in Belfast. Societies at every university also use the site to organise events: although most email members and put posters up around campus, so people are aware of upcoming events regardless.
The rise of social networking has been truly terrifying. Remember when Twitter was virtually nonexistent? Remember a time when Facebook was the backing singer to Myspace? Remember a time when hysterical tributes to cats hadn’t engulfed t’internet? I strongly believe that through perseverance, the dependence on social networking that keeps us numb can be overcome, and the sites will fade from our collective conscious.
By Rudi Abdallah