Face-Off

So, I left you on tenterhooks, didn’t I? What did I do about my Facebook dilemma?

I left.

Well, I deactivated my account. It’s a further withdrawal to a place where I am much happier… but I think I may go further.

How so?

Well,deactivation is not deletion. Deactivating my account removes it from the searches and viewing: if you were to search for me, whereas once I would have appeared, now I do not. From your perspective I do not exist.

But from my perspective, the account is there, just dormant. I can resuscitate it back to the state it was when I last left it. I do not need to reload my photos, my full status history is still there, I don’t need to reconnect with friends.

And I suspect that I don’t count as one of those 2m UK users who ‘left’ Facebook in the last six months. I suspect they treat me as having fallen asleep rather than turn my back.

But it is part of the gradual withdrawal meaning I haven’t burned my bridges if I find my life impossible to lead without it.

So, how has it been?

Well, I had one month where I didn’t post, I merely viewed the stuff on my Newsfeed - which proved rather why I didn’t need it - and I’ve now had one month without it entirely. Am I getting withdrawal symptoms?

No.

I have more time to do all the other stuff. Like this, other general internettery and gardening and stuff.

Do I not have any concerns?

Yes. I worry that I’m not getting invited to things. I’m not fussed about seeing the photos of other people’s food or babies, but I am worried that certain events are being organised without me knowing.

Now, this wouldn’t be a massive concern assuming that I never find out about the event – if I don’t know about it, I can’t miss it. But there are those that I do find out about. For example, next weekend the football club has organised a camping trip. I haven’t found out about this. Now, there is an organisation fault on the club here: official club events should not be organised through Facebook, it should be done through the official club email list. But in a lazy way the social secretary has created a Facebook event which I would not have known about had there not been a discussion about it in the pub last week.

So that’s one concern.

My other concern is that people might forget about me. Not in a big way, but I have a few of my friends who live overseas who I don’t see frequently. Facebook was a useful way to stay in contact. Some of those are on Twitter, but many are not. If nothing else, Facebook gave me a prompt once a year to wish them a happy birthday. How many I actually chose to wish it is another matter; but on other occasions I could join in the conversation should I need.

I do miss out on some other stuff though. This weekend I went down to London and as well as my regular friends I bumped into some others. Some were slightly offended that I might have deleted them. Admittedly I could have handled the withdrawal better by letting people know well in advance that I was deactivating my account, but once I explained that it was me and not them, they were ok with it. And there was conversation to be had – a lot of “well, you won’t know because you’ve not been on Facebook, but …” – things such as photos of a new car and a baby. So whilst Facebook cultivates its own conversation, it doesn’t kill it otherwise, it still occurs, just originates in a different fashion.

And the pictures. We went out on Saturday night and all took photos. I uploaded mine onto my Flickr account but that meant people having to go out of their way to view the photos, and meant that I don’t get to see the ones other people took unless they want to email them to me.

And then there are the more distant friends. I saw a few of them on Saturday – people who I see once a year or less, and otherwise would keep up with on Facebook. We did the ‘update’ chat; but again, rather than it starting out with “Oh, and I saw on Facebook that you ran a marathon – how was that?” there was less prompting and the conversation slightly more stunted.

And finally, the at-a-loose-end fall-back. I was abandoned for a while on Saturday and Sunday – my friend needing a little rest. Previously I could have searched on Facebook and seen what people were up to, where they were and met them; or alternatively put out a general “on my own in Soho if anyone is available for a drink”. Instead I had to rely on texting a few people to see where they were.

But then the risks outweighed the positives and I think I’m happier with a deactivated account, even if it means I miss out on a few events. I have enough people text or email me various event invites that the effect will probably be minimal. I’m still undecided; and it may be that I do rejoin, but change my relationship – interact in a much more limited fashion after a full scrub of the information on my account. I’m not sure. It’s a lot of effort to go through. I’ll sit on a deactivated account for a little while longer and see if I miss out on much more.

One noticeable effect has been the discussion that it has sparked. People have asked me why I left, and when I respond about my privacy and security concerns, a lot of people echo it. Many have said that they have reduced the amount they interact with Facebook – indeed, my anecdotal evidence before I left was that they people whose statuses I actually cared about were posting considerably less. Some have said they are debating coming off.

Perhaps the shark really has been jumped.