The Social Network: Meta-Commentary

2010 was a lonely year to be a technophobe, at least in my then-tinier bubble. Soon, I’d be in college telling friends their decision to study the sciences was irresponsible. What could that tell us about the soul and ourselves? Fincher’s The Social Network (2010) made my Luddism a bit less lonely.

I’ve grown a bit more accommodating of the hard sciences since then, though my views on tech have probably only hardened. It feels good to be proven right, even if the results are gruesome. You all know what I mean. I need only whisper three-syllable names, a string of numbers, or the word “Discord” to raise our collective blood pressure. My views on Fincher’s biopic have become more extreme—extremely positive.

How could Fincher, along with writer Aaron Sorkin, composer Trent Reznor and the whole host of those involved in The Social Network understand the personification of our moment so completely at a time when “Peter Thiel” was little more than a side character to be included for the sake of realism? We were then a decade away from “slop.” “Goon” still meant “henchman.” Satoshi Nakamoto had not yet graced us with endless rug pulls.

The Social Network‘s force stems from a trope that now structures our existence: the nerds will have their revenge. In this telling, Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) is a socially inept nerd who accidentally falls into billions of dollars after he lashes out at a woman. He has few friends, limited social skills, and a resentment-filled chip on his shoulder. The movie’s frame narrative follows Zuckerberg’s fending off lawsuits from three moneymen-turned-antagonists: the Winklevoss twins (Armie Hammer) and Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield). The former are wealthy jocks, the latter a personable would-be CFO (now a billionaire in his own right).

It is difficult for me to see the last twenty years as anything but a series of sadistic reenactments of that 80s trope—once a laughter-filled fantasy, now the reason the economy is set to explode. Fincher’s movie, and the book it’s based on, seize on the heart of the fact. All before it had come to pass.

In that odd way, I find The Social Network comforting, a reminder that all Cassandras (and I don’t claim to be one) are not alone, that perhaps things can still be otherwise.