Seeing Life Through the Facebook Eye, Part Deux

In my first post prompted by a recent essay by Nathan Jurgenson, I noted how the advent of photograpy — and now its ubiquity — changed the way we view the world. So what are social media like Facebook doing to us now?

Here’s what Jurgenson sees:

‘Today, we are in danger of developing a “Facebook Eye”: our brains always looking for moments where the ephemeral blur of lived experience might best be translated into a Facebook post; one that will draw the most comments and “likes.” ’

Now, with social media, we can share not only what we see, but also what we’re doing, and even what we’re thinking about. The democratization of communication through the internet means we all can have vast, if momentary, audiences at our disposal. And we are also part of an audience for others – others whose lives, as depicted through tweets and status updates, seem really great. Often better than ours.

So the Facebook Eye pushes us to think about how we can repackage our lives for maximum approval from others. And, in fact, how we can live our lives to get that approval.

In the old days, the only ones who had to worry about public relations were public figures. It’s easy to imagine PR flacks telling Hollywood celebrities they have to be seen at this dinner, at that party.  That’s how the fame game is played.

But social media are making us all press agents… for ourselves. Now we are spin doctors, packaging ourselves so that all those ‘friends’ – and people we don’t even know – respect and admire us.

Are we turning ourselves into brands? Even if we’re not making any money from what people think of us (some are, of course), approval in the marketplace can seem like reward enough. And when we put ourselves out there and are received with silence, it hurts.

People have always wanted approval, of course. Many of us who live from a perspective of faith use the image of living ‘for an audience of One’ – but that’s hyperbole. Everyone plays to an audience that includes other people. But a decade ago, the audiences for most of our lives were so small, generally limited to those we knew well or saw often.  Now, 753 Facebook ‘friends’ whose attention I can capture for a fleeting moment, or perhaps longer if I come up with something really good? That’s pressure.

Increasingly, there’s a temptation to believe experiences aren’t complete unless we’ve notified the world. A few weeks ago, I was up early and saw the one of the most incredible morning skies I’ve ever witnessed. I was amazed, but within a few seconds I was asking myself if it was possible to capture it in a photo and then share it. I concluded I couldn’t… but no loss, because others had the same view (and some had a better vantage point than mine!), and before long it was all over Facebook.

And that was nice, to be sure. It is natural to want to share experiences – it’s a fundamental instinct, and one that can bless other people, not to mention the one doing the sharing. And the anticipation of it can be helpful too:  we get through tough experiences by telling ourselves, ‘At least this is going to make quite a story.’

So as with most technology-driven changes in the way we live, the social media revolution comes with upsides and downsides. When I was stuck in Amsterdam by myself for 5 days due to the Icelandic volcano eruption, I was surprised by how little loneliness I felt. (You can read my account of it here.) I think was in part due to my ability to post Facebook updates on what I was seeing and doing, and then to read comments from friends. Being able to share the experience, in this small way, really helped.

Still, looking at our lives through this Facebook Eye can move us away from authenticity. Our appetite for approval is so strong. Orienting our lives to satisfy it can sap the spontaneity, fun and even joy from life.

If we find that, as Jurgenson writes, ‘The tail of Facebook documentation has come to wag the dog of lived experience,’ maybe it’s time to shut that Facebook Eye for a while, and simply live.

 

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