I’ve been defending Facebook since it first caught on, insisting that the knee-jerk reaction many Christians exhibited toward an apparent venue for arrogance and foolishness was in fact a logical next step for a culture that was starved for community. Since I first signed up for Facebook, I haven’t thought twice about it, even in the face of the more recent controversies about alleged privacy infractions.
For about two hours on Friday, I finally started to question my judgment.
There are questions about the veracity of The Social Network, and writer Aaron Sorkin himself has acknowledged that much of the movie simply had to be invented in the absence of any real knowledge of the truth. Nonetheless, many of the facts surrounding the founding of Facebook are verified by various articles and interviews. The sense we get, both from the film and more factual sources is disconcerting: The guy who created and runs a system that is primarily meant to help people connect with other people may not be all that great at connecting with people.
The questions and concerns we’ve been avoiding about Facebook have been thrust indelicately in our face by Sorkin and Fincher. The movie is a punch in the gut for anyone who (like me) went against the grain and simply trusted that the guys who run this thing were wise and thoughtful enough to make the right decisions in the right ways at the right time. Instead, we walk out of the theater feeling as if we’ve taken some kind of Matrix-esque red pill. We’ve been living and operating within a system for so long that we forgot to take the time to question it.
Indeed, the most horrifying thing about The Social Network is that even if it were about the damage Facebook does to our way of life (and it’s really not), it would be impossible to do anything about it such a truth. We are a part of Facebook, and Facebook is a part of us. Like capitalism and the media empire, Facebook isn’t going anywhere without an all-out revolution, and that requires a lot of social and emotional pain that we are likely unwilling to put up with.
I don’t quite hate Facebook, and I’m not sure if I truly should be uncomfortable with its’ CEO, Mark Zuckerberg. What I do know is that he’s 26, and that he’s probably a lot smarter than he is wise. If he’s anything like me at 26 (or at my present age of 28), he has radical ideas about things he’s passionate about that he’s anxious to apply practically. And if he’s anything like me, he’s less patient than someone older and more seasoned.
Indeed, my biggest fear is that Mark Zuckerberg is in fact no better or wiser than me. It’s not that I hate Facebook or think it will ruin us as a human race. It’s just that Facebook, as a dense collection of human beings, is rife for a profound display of unchecked sin. Because of that, we have to be especially on guard against its dangers and do our best to exploit its advantages. After all, in the end what we’re going to get is the social network we deserve.