MY GENERATION
Like mother, like daughter?
When it comes to the issue of oversharing on social media, writers Bel Mooney and Kitty
Dimbleby are at loggerheads about what is appropriate. Surprisingly, it is mum Bel who needs to be kept on the right track by her daughter...
BEL
Iremember how I mocked her. Before 2010, Kitty would arrive at my house and flip open her laptop to check Facebook. It was weird, I thought – to share thoughts and photos with a bunch of other people. But then came the publication of my memoir, A Small Dog Saved My Life, and the publisher recommended social media. They said it was A Good Thing, to help with publicity. I asked Kitty to show me, but she was living in London and there was never time – so I thought I could work it out myself.
Then my addiction began. Talk about being hoist by your own petard! I quickly realised that the Facebook community (itself a meaningless phrase) actually frowns on naked self-publicising. So I decided to have two pages – a closed one for friends and the other (called Bel Mooney – writer) for anyone. That’s called making work for yourself. As for friends – at the moment I have 1,167, with hundreds more requests waiting. The thought makes me tired and the concept is ridiculous. I do not know all those people and they aren’t friends. Some might be horrible.
Nevertheless, my addiction continues – and sometimes it drives Kitty mad. People use Facebook for different reasons and it entertains me to get involved with conversations and arguments online. It’s one way of putting off buckling down to work. But my daughter rebukes me for wasting time – and she started to worry and object when I shared too many opinions. Our big difference came when I was quite happy to get into punch-ups (often about my newspaper, the Daily Mail) but she
thought it a mistake. She said I had no idea how it worked, how things spread, etc. And she was correct; I didn’t think about that.
Then, another book – and my publisher recommended Twitter. At that point Kitty really did protest. She said I’d be trolled. ‘I don’t care,’ said I. ‘But I care,’ she said. And I took that seriously. Why should she have to read nasty things said about her mother? As a result I have never joined Twitter and now that I recognise what a sea of bilge and nastiness it can be, I have to acknowledge that she was right. Recently I have become very worried by what goes on in social media – and what I see as the power-without-responsibility of an organisation like Facebook. Yet the addiction continues.
Because I work at home I do like interacting with others, even though I sometimes become angry over an issue like Brexit. It’s stimulating for a journalist – and I’ve been in the business for nearly 50 years – so I reckon I know what I’m doing. But Kitty has a different view. Sometimes she calls me and tells me it would be wise to delete something. Often my first thought is, ‘mind your own business!’ But then I always do as she suggests, because I know she is right. It is clearly unwise to let too many people know what you are thinking and feeling. Kitty uses Instagram, which I have no interest in, and I will never bother with Twitter. How long will these things last – and wasn’t life better without them? I listen to Kitty when she suggests that Facebook should only be for sharing things that make you smile, because there is too much conflict in the world. But the next minute I find myself relishing another pointless argument with invisible boxing gloves!
I HATE THE VERY IDEA OF FACEBOOK, AND YET THE ADDICTION CONTINUES
KITTY
Ihave a love-hate relationship with social media. Like most of us, I’m somewhat addicted and loathe wasting so much time on it. But, working from home juggling freelance writing and with two young children, often the online interactions are the only adult ones I have all day. It’s an integral part of my life now and hard to quit.
I see myself as a second-wave Facebook user – joining in 2007 (after the first-wave students) at the age of 27. I’ve had a fairly innocent Facebook existence – I married the man I was dating when I joined so have never dealt with ‘consciously uncoupling’ publically, or the pain of witnessing an ex’s new love online. But I cringe at some of my earlier statuses – understanding now that no one cared that I was ‘flying off on holiday tomorrow’ or ‘having a tough day’. In fact I’m sure my followers found me infuriating!
I rarely post status updates these days and, although my children are Facebook children because I’ve shared their various milestones with my online friends, I try not to bang on about them too much. Unlike millennials, I remember an adulthood before social media, and have friends who shun it altogether, reminding me to pick up the phone and connect the old-fashioned way. I’m only Facebook friends with people I actually know, regularly culling those no longer in my life, and my security settings are so only friends can see my posts.
Mum is a third-wave Facebook user – the generation who followed their offspring. But her friend lists aren’t filled with real friends; as a person with a public profile, Mum gets hundreds of requests, normally from strangers. She’s now friends with over 1,000 people who she can’t possibly know, and I don’t think she realises that when she likes other people’s posts it appears in her friends’ feeds. Meaning that she is sharing her views with thousands of people.
All of this makes me nervous, especially because Mum is willing to get political on Facebook – often liking and commenting on things that I don’t think reflect well on her. I also don’t understand the pleasure she takes in arguing with strangers online. Many threads she starts become unpleasant and confrontational and I’m torn between being protective of her and wishing she would put a sock in it! It’s also a complete waste of time – something Mum is always saying she is very short of. Instead, I wish she’d go for a walk, write creatively, hang out with her dogs (or me) – all of which would be much better for her wellbeing.
It’s said that the best dinner party etiquette is to never discuss sex, politics or religion – and I slightly agree. I love healthy debate among friends but the anonymity of the internet makes people rude – we share opinions in a way that would horrify my grandparents and shout at those who don’t agree with us in a tone and language we’d never use in person. I’ve had enough and consequently use Facebook much less – other than to post the occasional kid pic, or to share something I’ve found funny or inspirational. I prefer Instagram (which I do have open settings on) as I love seeing other people’s photos and sharing mine, and I find it a much friendlier community. It has led to freelance work and I use it to showcase my writing by sharing articles and writing captions that are as key as the photos. And honestly, I’m relieved Mum isn’t on Instagram. It’s something that is now mine, where I don’t need to worry about what she is posting or go into battle with strangers to stick up for her.
I’M TORN BETWEEN PROTECTING MUM AND WISHING SHE’D PUT A SOCK IN IT!