Facebook to Face

There was an article in The Star (7/1/11), “Facebook status: Addicted!”

Keeping in mind it’s The Star, it’s not a bad piece. According to it, half of NZers have a Facebook profile, half of those check it daily, and 1 in 10 claim to be “addicted” to it.

Made me think.

I think claiming to be “addicted” to something has become a bit of a buzz word. As a society we are “addicted” to many things, according to the contemporary definition. We’re addicted to cars; we’re addicted to easy communication – just witness the chaos when the XT network goes down. Or the wireless modem disconnects. We’re addicted to latte.

But are we “addicted”? I suggest someone in rehab trying to kick a heroin problem might feel aggrieved at having that label hijacked. Even someone trying to kick smoking might feel hard done by.

If checking Facebook six times a day equals “addiction” I’d better head off to the CapriTrust now. What if you can’t quantify how many times you “check Facebook”? What if you’re on Facebook every waking moment you’re online? What if you have messages and notifications sent to your cell phone when you’re not near your computer? If checking it 6 times a day is “addicted”, I’m in serious trouble.

Truth is “addicted” has always been a vague thing when it comes to non-physical habits. It’s easy to define an addiction to booze, cigarettes, or (other) mind-altering drugs. A bit harder to define addiction to the other things: gambling, sex, shopping, Twitter.

Two things struck me on the back of the Star article. First, I’ve been suffering friend-envy. I’ve been thinking that because I only have something like 50-80 “friends” on Facebook, clearly I’m anti-social and nobody likes me. Further, if I were cool, I’d have lots of Facebook friends. I don’t. Therefore, I’m not cool. Can’t fault that logic – if P then Q. Not P. Therefore not Q (but feel free to challenge the premise).

However, it seems (according to the article) roughly 50% of us have less than a hundred or so “friends”. And I’ve also comforted myself with one of my favourite quotes (which, yes, is listed as one of my favourite quotes in my Facebook profile): there are people one knows, and people one doesn’t. We shouldn’t cheapen the former by feigning intimacy with the latter.

I’m proud to say that of my 70 friends on Facebook, I have not met in person only 7 of them. Of those 7, one is an “online” connection I’ve had for 13 years; 5 are “professional” contacts with whom I have had considerable online communication, and will undoubtedly meet in person one day; and 1 is a recent contact with whom I’m engaging in online communication, but will probably never meet in person (based on a quirky past coincidence – vague, I know but it’s a long story).

So, I’m happy to know I’m not feigning intimacy with a whole bunch of people I have no clue about, which to me is preferable to being able to say I have a thousand friends but haven't actually met 850 of them. Which segues nicely into the second thing that struck me with regard to the Star article.

It’s an interesting phenomenon when you “meet” someone online (but not in person yet), whether it’s via a dating website or some other method, perhaps someone contacts you via email or your website. You exchange pleasantries, and then you add them of Facebook. You check their profile. You check out their photos, their “likes” and their wall. You feel a bit like a stalker. You follow them. You begin to get a sense of what they’re like, what they’re about. You discover what they think about certain things, how they interact with their real-life friends (which is a very loaded concept); you see what language they use and how their grammar and spelling is. Sometimes you see them at their lowest; sometimes you see what kind of drunk they are (angry, morose or silly).

But then, you begin to make judgments about them. You discover intimate details about them. You interact with them via chat and private message. You make and change plans. You exchange ideas.

And you begin to feel as if you know them.

Which are all the hallmarks of a relationship of old (pre-Internet). Only. You haven’t met in person!

And that’s when it can get tricky. Because when you finally meet them in person, sometimes you go … huh? You’re not the person I “know” from Facebook. You’re completely different. You don’t look anything like your photo/s. You’re voice isn’t at all what I imagined it would be like. You’re speaking a different language. And that accent!

What’s really annoying is when you really feel connected online, and have wonderful conversations and exchange delicious emails/messages (and I don’t necessarily mean romantic ones, I just mean significant, meaningful ones). And then, when you meet in person, you have nothing to say to each other. Or the “professional” relationship is strained because the online chemistry is not present.

What’s that about?

We’re different online than we are in person, aren’t we? I think that’s been established unequivocally. The reasons for which are many. Ten years ago I figured there was a book in it. Now there are many, and none of them mine!

Thankfully I have no such issues with my 70 Facebook friends, although of the few I have not met I do wonder about the nature of how we will get on in person (sorry if you’re one of them and reading this). More often than not I have been pleasantly surprised with how okay the real-life relationship is over the online one. Of the 63 I have met in person, ten started as online contacts. Of those ten I can honestly say, that, while “meeting” has sometimes been a bit awkward, generally that awkwardness has dissipated quickly. But also, to be fair, those connections have been more professional than personal. But all ten I consider real-life friends (not that we’re out socialising frequently or anything, but when I am in their company I enjoy them).

And add to that list a few online contacts I have then met IRL who are part of the 49.7 % of NZers who are not on Facebook. And of course, quite a few over the years that I no longer have any contact with.

I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences on and of Facebook relationships.