Interconnectedness & Separation

“Facebook is false intimacy.”

So said my friend Cristina, years ago, as we sat in the shade on the banks of Lake Natoma next to our pulled-up kayaks. Her words struck me then, and have stayed with me ever since. I’m aging myself by referencing Facebook…and Cristina. Sorry, girl.

When Cristina uttered that immortal phrase (taking some liberties there, but trying to get back into Cristina’s good graces) we were barely past the dawn of social media. Myspace had been eclipsed by Facebook, but Instagram, Snapchat, and TikTok were not yet even on the horizon. On the day of our kayaking date, people more often called than texted, and when they called and didn’t get an answer, they still left voicemails (the heresy!) All that to say, we were still talking to one another back then. The majority of our communication with our “friends” wasn’t happening online, as it seems to now.

I have debased myself by using air quotes there (I truly hate air quotes. I really believe quotation marks should only be used around quotations.) The reason I have allowed myself the debauchery of air quotes is because I am intrigued by some issues of nomenclature where social media is concerned. When Cristina proclaimed that Facebook is false intimacy, I thought carefully about what she was implying. What it really boils down to, in my opinion, is that we have embraced the concept that the people we are “friends” (ugh) with on social media are truly our friends. I would posit that the vast majority of them are not.

There are many definitions of the word friend. The primary definition, depending on your source, will read in some way akin to what Merriam-Webster offers us, “one attached to another by affection or esteem.” This definition certainly applies to some of my Facebook friends. But it does not apply to all or even most of them. Of course, there are secondary definitions of friend, such as, “one that is not hostile.” That definition can apply to, I would hope, all of my Facebook friends (if we’re not talking about politics.) But really, if we’re being accurate, most of the people I’m connected to on Facebook fall under the heading of acquaintance: “a person whom one knows but who is not a particularly close friend.”

Now obviously when Mark Zuckerberg was sitting in his dorm room at Harvard working on The Facebook with his roommates, the idea of Facebook Acquaintances wasn’t going to fly. It’s not catchy, it’s not alliterative, and it wouldn’t have capitalized on the already-established notion of online “friends” (again…ugh) set up by Friendster and perpetuated by Myspace. So Facebook Friends it was, even though at the time, Facebook had a completely different mission than either Friendster or Myspace. Facebook was set up as an online lookbook; a college directory with photos. It was a way for 18-22 year olds to check out who was living in other dorms and learn the name of the hot girl in organic chem or the dude with swagger in Shakespeare seminar. At the time it was invented, Facebook wasn’t intended to reunite old friends or connect business colleagues. The idea of being Facebook Friends was a far cry from Merriam-Webster’s definition of “one attached to another by affection or esteem.”

But what college students loved then, and what Facebook has continued to capitalize on in subsequent years, is the idea of false intimacy that is conferred by this notion of online friendships. We can log on, check in, and check out again. We don’t have to actually talk to anyone. We don’t have to mind our manners. We don’t have to brush our teeth, or get dressed, or make eye contact. We can have one eye on the TV while we get caught up with our friends. We can take them into the bathroom with us. We don’t have to remember their birthdays if we don’t want to, and we can choose to ignore it when they state that their pet died, or they got a promotion, or they’re moving. This is not real friendship. This is not active listening. This is not true engagement in another person’s life.

Social media can be great for keeping up with true friends who are spread far and wide. Yes, I use it as a means to stay in touch with people I love from high school and college who live all over the country. I do enjoy seeing pictures and knowing whose kids are graduating and where they’re off to next. But let’s face it, 95% of my Facebook feed is ads and people I don’t really know that well or care that much about. Who wants to invest their time in a platform full of shallow acquaintances? Because that’s what Facebook really is.

We’re at least fifteen years on from Cristina’s words about Facebook and false intimacy, and so much the more interconnected by the web of social media. It is an interconnection that consumes us, with most of us carrying our phones with us everywhere, many of us posting constantly to social media platforms. Everything is noted, recorded, posted, commented upon. If it isn’t posted, it didn’t happen, right? There seems to be a constant sense of FOMO hovering over our interconnected society. People feel the need to expose themselves on social media constantly, and their “friends” (that again) or followers see these posts and immediately know exactly what they’re missing out on. Our interconnectedness casts a glaring spotlight on the haves vs. the have-nots, ultimately highlighting our separation in life. It used to be that your wealthier friends (I use the term friend lightly) came back from their summer vacations and told you about their travels abroad, now you see pictures and videos in real time. All of this time spent on social media, perusing the ways our friends lead their lives, often serves to separate those who can from those who can’t, those who do from those who don’t, those who have from those who have not. It does not connect us. It separates us.

My musings on the notion of Facebook Friends led me to the nomenclature of Instagram “followers” (again, the air quotes. Lindley Murray forgive me.) I am not so old as to be unfamiliar with Instagram. The concept of choosing to follow someone implies that they are leading you in some way. There are multiple meanings that could apply here: “to act in accordance with”, “to accept as authority”, “to copy after”, “to attend closely to”...you get the drift. What all of these definitions have in common is the implication that a follower is one who melds their thinking and behavior to that of another, rather than thinking and acting independently. Instagram followers are not being led in any literal, cardinal direction (unless it’s to the chicest, coolest, it-est place to be seen.) Rather, they are being led in what to wear/how to think/what to eat/how to vote. This is what they are acting in accordance with, accepting as authority, copying after, and attending closely to.  

There is an inherent co-dependency that is created in this dynamic of Instagram followers. Beyond followers needing to be told where to go and what to think (whether they realize this is what’s happening or not), those whom they are following, in this case people termed content creators and influencers, need people to follow them. These people search out followers, in greater and greater numbers, because their followers afford them with validation, and an air of legitimacy, and…sponsorship deals.

As with most co-dependency in life, this isn’t a healthy relationship. Once again, a careful consideration of the nomenclature leads us to the inevitable conclusion that this is false intimacy. We might follow friends on Instagram, and that’s fine if we can avoid falling prey to the seemingly inevitable FOMO and comparison-is-the-thief-of-joy syndrome alluded to earlier. But Instagram offers us something Facebook doesn’t, which is the opportunity, if you want to call it that, to attend closely to/accept as authority/act in accordance with celebrities and influencers. This is the pinnacle of false intimacy. We are not really a part of these people’s lives. They have not actually invited us onto their private jets with them. We have never really been inside their bedrooms. We follow them, and they lead us…straight to the bank. Their bank. This is what it means to be an Instagram follower.

I haven’t seen Cristina in years, by the way. I’m not sure how genuine the intimacy was that we shared - but I do appreciate her words that day.