The Fakebook Generation ✓ Solved

The Fakebook Generation

THE time-chugging Web site Facebook.com first appeared during my freshman year as the exclusive domain of college students. This spring, Facebook opened its pearly gates, enabling myself and other members of the class of ’07 to graduate from our college networks into those of the real world. In no time at all, the Web site has convinced its rapidly assembling adult population that it is a forum for genuine personal and professional connections.

Its founder, Mark Zuckerberg, has even declared his quest to chart a “social graph” of human relationships the way that cartographers once charted the world. Just a warning: if you’re planning on following the corner of this map that’s been digitally doodled by my 659 Facebook friends, you are going to end up in the middle of nowhere. All the rhetoric about human connectivity misses the real reason this popular online study buddy has so distracted college students for the past four years.

Facebook did not become popular because it was a functional tool — after all, most college students live in close quarters with the majority of their Facebook friends and have no need for social networking. Instead, we log into the Web site because it’s entertaining to watch a constantly evolving narrative starring the other people in the library. I’ve always thought of Facebook as online community theater.

In costumes we customize in a backstage makeup room — the Edit Profile page, where we can add a few Favorite Books or touch up our About Me section — we deliver our lines on the very public stage of friends’ walls or photo albums. And because every time we join a network, post a link or make another friend it’s immediately made visible to others via the News Feed, every Facebook act is a soliloquy to our anonymous audience.

It’s all comedy: making one another laugh matters more than providing useful updates about ourselves, which is why entirely phony profiles were all the rage before the grown-ups signed in. One friend announced her status as In a Relationship with Chinese Food, whose profile picture was a carry-out box and whose personal information personified the cuisine of China.

We even make a joke out of how we know one another — claiming to have met in “Intro to Super Mario Re-enactments,” which I seriously doubt is a real course at Wesleyan, or to have lived together in a “spay and neuter clinic” instead of the dorm. Still, these humor bits often reveal more about our personalities and interests than any honest answers.

Facebook administrators have since exiled at least the flagrantly fake profiles, the Greta Garbos and the I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butters, in an effort to have the site grow up from a farce into the serious social networking tool promised to its new adult users, who earnestly type in their actual personal information and precisely label everyone they know as former co-workers or current colleagues, family members or former lovers.

But does this more reverent incarnation of Facebook actually enrich adult relationships? What do these constellations of work colleagues and long-lost friends amount to? An online office mixer? A reunion with that one other guy from your high school who has a Facebook profile? Oh!

You get to see pictures of your former college sweetheart’s family! (Only depressing possibilities are coming to mind for some reason.) My generation has long been bizarrely comfortable with being looked at, and as performers on the Facebook stage, we upload pictures of ourselves cooking dinner for our parents or doing keg stands at last night’s party; we are reckless with our personal information.

But there is one area of privacy that we won’t surrender: the secrecy of how and whom we search. A friend of mine was recently in a panic over rumors of a hacker application that would allow Facebook users to see who’s been visiting their profiles. She’d spent the day ogling a love interest’s page and was horrified at the idea that he knew she’d been looking at him.

But there’s no way Facebook would allow such a program to exist: the site is popular largely because it enables us to indulge our gazes anonymously. (We might feel invulnerable in the spotlight, but we don’t want to be caught sitting in someone else’s audience.) If our ability to privately search is ever jeopardized, Facebook will turn into a ghost town.

Facebook purports to be a place for human connectivity, but it’s made us more wary of real human confrontation. When I was in college, people always warned against the dangers of “Facebook stalking” at a library computer — the person whose profile you’re perusing might be right behind you. Dwelling online is a cowardly and utterly enjoyable alternative to real interaction.

So even though Facebook offers an elaborate menu of privacy settings, many of my friends admit that the only setting they use is the one that prevents people from seeing that they are Currently Logged In. Perhaps we fear that the Currently Logged In feature advertises to everyone else that we (too!) are Currently Bored, Lustful, Socially Unfulfilled or Generally Avoiding Real Life.

For young people, Facebook is yet another form of escapism; we can turn our lives into stage dramas and relationships into comedy routines. Make believe is not part of the postgraduate Facebook user’s agenda. As more and more older users try to turn Facebook into a legitimate social reference guide, younger people may follow suit and stop treating it as a circus ring.

But let’s hope not.

Paper For Above Instructions

In recent years, social media has become a pervasive part of daily life, influencing everything from communication to social dynamics. Facebook, in particular, has transitioned from a university-exclusive platform to a seemingly ubiquitous social tool for individuals across various age groups. However, the core of Facebook’s appeal, particularly for younger users, mirrors what Alice Mathias describes in her op-ed, “The Fakebook Generation.” This paper seeks to explore the dynamics of human connection manifest in Facebook’s design and use, assessing its implications for authenticity in relationships.

The concept of social media as “community theater,” as Mathias aptly puts it, encapsulates the performative nature of interactions on Facebook. Users curate their online personas, providing selective glimpses of their lives while often resorting to humor and imagination to engage their audiences. This theatricality can promote creativity but risks authenticity by prioritizing entertainment over genuine connections. Consequently, the relationships formed may lack substance, functioning instead as a facade for deeper social needs that remain unaddressed.

Mathias further asserts that Facebook’s evolution to include more adult users has transformed the site's purpose, from a tool for connection among college students to a serious social networking platform. Despite these changes, the question remains: does this shift enhance the quality of adult relationships? The superficial nature of many connections on Facebook, likened to an “online office mixer” or a “reunion,” raises concerns about the depth of interactions. According to research, online connections often do not translate to meaningful relationships offline (Hampton, 2011).

The notion of “Facebook stalking,” discussed by Mathias, highlights an inherent contradiction within the platform—a simultaneous desire to observe and to remain unseen. This dichotomy mirrors modern society's broader anxieties about privacy and exposure in the digital age. Users may meticulously control what information they share publicly, yet remain anxious about their private browsing habits. Such behaviors suggest a discomfort with visibility while indulging in superficial connection, which can lead to feelings of isolation rather than intimacy (Turkle, 2011).

A primary insight from Mathias's article is the commentary on escapism through social media. She notes that for many, Facebook becomes a form of avoidance, an arena where life can be dramatized and where users can sidestep authentic interactions. In this way, Facebook's seductive nature pulls individuals into a cycle of perpetual engagement without the fulfillment of true connection (Kross et al., 2013). While it offers the allure of connection through a curated lens, it may ultimately foster a sense of disconnection.

Additionally, the behaviors exhibited by users, such as crafting humorous and exaggerated portrayals of their lives, reflect a struggle between authenticity and performativity. As Mathias notes, the platform encourages imaginative representations rather than honest disclosures. This can lead to difficulties in navigating real-life relationships, as individuals may find it challenging to reconcile their online persona with their offline reality (Dubrofsky & Kiesler, 2003). Therefore, while Facebook provides an avenue for social interaction, it may also induce a paradox of solitude, wherein users engage with others but fail to nurture substantial relationships.

The effects of this performative culture are nuanced; although they can strengthen community ties through shared humor, they may simultaneously undermine the potential for meaningful discourse. For instance, the incorporation of irony and satire can foster connections over shared experiences but simultaneously perpetuate a superficial understanding of one another. This insight raises critical questions regarding the quality of conversations occurring within these networks. If Facebook is viewed as a comical stage for interaction, can its users ever transcend the limitations of this performance?

In conclusion, while the transition of Facebook into a more professional and serious networking space may appear beneficial on the surface, it can obscure the fundamental challenges in fostering authentic connections. Mathias's observations highlight the need for individuals to critically assess their engagement with social media, recognizing the balance between entertainment and genuine connection. By understanding the dynamics at play, users may navigate Facebook not just as a platform for performance, but as a medium for fostering real relationships.

References

• Dubrofsky, R. E., & Kiesler, S. (2003). The Impact of Online Social Networks on Real-World Relationships. In the Proceedings of the Hawaii International Conference on System Sciences.
• Hampton, K. N. (2011). The Social Life of Wireless Cities: The Impact of Social Media on Urban Life. In the Urban Studies Journal.
• Kross, E., Verduyn, P., Kappas, A., & Hellen, H. (2013). Facebook Use Predicts Declines in Subjective Well-Being in Young Adults. PLOS ONE.
• Turkle, S. (2011). Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other. Basic Books.
• Mathias, A. (2007). The Fakebook Generation. The New York Times.
• Smith, A., & Duggan, M. (2013). Online Dating & Relationships. Pew Research Center.
• Pew Research Center. (2021). Social Media Use in 2021. Retrieved from https://www.pewresearch.org.
• Castells, M. (2011). The Rise of the Network Society. Wiley-Blackwell.
• Rainie, L., & Wellman, B. (2012). Networked: The New Social Operating System. MIT Press.
• Nass, C., & Moon, Y. (2000). Machines and Mindlessness: Social Responses to Computers. Journal of Social Issues.