The Obsolete Man

 

What happened to blogging? Facebook, that's what. Facebook is certainly the reason I've barely touched this blog for 15 years. 

But now Facebook has disabled my profile and it certainly looks as though I won't get it back. Fifteen years' worth of images, memories, thoughts and discussions have been wiped away. 

Might have to start calling it Erasebook. 

Why my account was removed is anyone's guess. Officially, I got a message saying it didn't meet Community Standards for authenticity and account integrity. What might I have done to make Facebook think I wasn't really me? I haven't a clue. 

The same thing happened to an acquaintance from Chicago, Jon Trott. Jon has been able to start a new account. Thus far I haven't. 

After what happened to Jon, I did reflect on just how much of my Facebook content wasn't saved anywhere else. I thought about backing up my whole profile, just in case. Did I follow through with it? No. 

If you're reading this, back up your Facebook account now. If they did this to me and Jon, they can do ti to you. I can't tell you how to avoid my fate because I don't know why this happened. But I can tell you that if your Facebook content is important to you, then you should keep a copy of it somewhere besides Facebook.

Speculatively it's not hard to imagine that my outspoken political opinions pissed somebody off, and that person decided to report my profile to Facebook to get me in trouble — and somehow succeeded. But still, plenty of people express outspoken political opinions on Facebook without being erased. I have no idea what makes me different. 

And this is one of the ways Facebook contributes to tribalism and echo chambers. Should I return there I'll be less inclined to engage with people who don't share my opinion, since I would wish to avoid having them weaponize Facebook's profile-reviewing algorithms against me. Naturally I want to engage with people who think as I do; yet I don't wish to be cut off from those who think differently. But the instinct for self-preservation will likely result in limited interaction.

Also, even if I do manage to establish another account, I doubt I'll be taking Facebook's side in any future arguments about social media censorship.

My situation may not be quite as dire as Burgess Meredith's in "The Obsolete Man," but it does feel as though some totalitarian entity has declared me obsolete.  

So I've been trying to recall what I did before there was Facebook. Of course there was this blog, and there were the online discussion boards that preceded Facebook. But I also played my instruments a little more than I do now, and occasionally composed music. Like the Meredith character, I read the occasional book. Eric Larson's The Demon of Unrest sits on my desk; it had already hit its library due date before I even cracked it open. Perhaps now there will be time.