Facebook friends we can do without
THE other day, I noticed that someone on Facebook had un-friended me. Now, I’ve un-friended Facebook friends before for various reasons (chronic swearing, constant whining, persistently flooding my newsfeed with inane drivel a gazillion times a day), but this time I was on the receiving end of rejection. And it didn’t feel good.
Moreover, I didn’t know the identity of the aggrieved person who’d had the audacity to dump me.
I searched through my list of remaining friends, in an attempt to discover who had gone absent without leave, but there was no hint. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Which just goes to show how much this person meant to me.
Of course, I would like to think that no real friend of mine would simply reject me in such a cowardly, cavalier manner. Real friends would have the courage to confront me, discuss their grouse with me and give me a chance to make amends.
The problem with Facebook is that some of my friends aren’t really my friends. Friends are people you can call in the middle of the night whenever you have a problem, safe in the knowledge that they will listen to you and try to help you in whatever way they can.
If I were to call some of my Facebook “friends” at four in the morning, they might respond by saying, “Mary? Mary who? Mary Schneider? I think you have the wrong number.”
“No,” I might say. “I got your number from your Facebook profile.” “But I don’t know you.” “Of course, you do. You’re my friend.” “No, I’m not.” “Yes, you are. We’ve been friends for years.”
“Well, my dear friend, please *&^% off and let me sleep.”
After that exchange, I would have no choice but to un-friend such an uncaring person.
I suspect the person who pressed the Facebook delete button on me was this sort of friend: an acquaintance who was annoyed because of something I’d posted, or because I hadn’t invited them to my birthday party, as evidenced in all the Facebook photos of me and all my real friends having a wonderful time.
How things have changed in the last decade. Before the advent of Facebook, you usually knew whenever someone fell out with you, because they would tell you directly to your face.
For example, if you were to arrive home one evening to find a friend seething with anger outside your front door, you would know immediately that something was amiss.
And if she were to say something like, “You scheming witch. What were you doing at my boyfriend’s apartment last night?” you would know that you were in deep trouble.
After giving you a piece of her mind, she would probably storm off, swearing never to speak to you again. She would then tell her family and small circle of friends what a disloyal friend you’d been. And that would probably be the end of it, other than a chance encounter in the local supermarket, where she might throw a scowl or two in your direction while passing you in the butchery section.
Contrast that with the sort of fallout that you might experience in today’s era of social media.
It’s possible that your friend might still confront you face-to-face (well, at least a good friend would), after which she might leave you and also vent her spleen via Facebook. Then there are other friends who would seek relief via Facebook without bothering to challenge you first.
While in a feverish state, they would type out a post containing all the sordid details of your affair, and then tag you in the update before posting it. Depending on your Facebook settings, such an update would have the potential to reach your friend’s 980 most intimate friends, plus all your own Facebook friends.
Before you know what’s happening, more than a thousand people, including your parents and possibly your boss, know what a bad girl you’ve been. Even your grandfather with the bad heart might find out about it over breakfast, causing him to have a seizure in his cornflakes.
So something that previously might only have been exposed to a few people is now in danger of going viral – and your reputation could be shot forever. Some people might even begin un-friending you because of your behaviour. Not that that would be a bad thing, entirely. I would rather have a handful of real friends than a few hundred who would blithely ignore my pleas for help in the middle of the night.
Nonetheless, I’m still curious to know who it was that bumped me off their list.
Check out Mary on Facebook at www.facebook.com/mary. schneider.writer. Reader response can be directed to star2@thestar.com.my.