Goodbye Facebook, Thanks For All The Likes

Wednesday is about writing, or in this case 'righting'...

I’m quitting Facebook. I’ve quit cigarettes (haven’t had one in 17 years, at my peak I smoked two packs a day). I’ve – more recently – quit drinking (just celebrated two years with a totally clear head). And I’m changing some my worst eating habits. No more second helpings, sweet treats or desserts for this guy…

But I reckon quitting Facebook will be tougher than any of that. And I think writing about it – one day into it – is tantamount to a kiss of death. But I’ve always believed in the power of a public declaration too. So, we’ll see. And by that, I mean you will get to see…if you want to.

Social media has been a huge and unpaid part of my ‘job’ for over a decade now. I wasn’t an early adopter at all. I was slow to Facebook and Twitter, way slower again to Instagram. I started a YouTube channel only a year ago. And I have about 15 subscribers I reckon (lol!) And I don’t even know how to Tik, let alone Tok.

But Facebook exploded for me sometime in the very early 2010s. I was writing for the newspaper and on radio (and even TV a wee bit). I was “best known” for my daily music blog on Stuff and had also started my own site for all the extras and run-off. I was busy. And part of that being busy was in actively promoting the business and busyness – in being open to being contacted. And beyond that, I absolutely loved being available to be part of a dialogue. My favourite thing about my social media was my Off The Tracks Facebook page. But as I’m the sole admin for it, that page is now down – because of my decision to leave Facebook.

It's not a decision made lightly. It’s probably several years overdue. And a day in, this could all come back to haunt – and soon. With a side of egg. Served on my face of course.

But here’s what happened:

The other day I wanted to share Emily Writes’ Substack newsletter. I sometimes link to it here – but I thought to share this particular edition via Facebook, since it was all about ways we might help in the current Russia/Ukraine conflict. I’m always in awe of people that know more about these things, and also people that reach out with their kindness and share thoughts and options, provide ‘information’ in this growing sea of misinformation. These lifeboats of hope and help have never seemed more necessary, more vital.

Facebook immediately takes down my post. Tells me I’m to stop sharing pornography, nudity, and sexual content. Tells me I’ve possibly shared something containing incest.

Um…

Look, it’s funny. I guess. And I get that. But next thing I’m two days in the hole, another stint in Facebook Jail – banned from posting or commenting. And this is about the fifth time in a year or less that this has happened. The bots have got it all wrong. And the support inbox offers no clear way to point this out any longer. I’m deemed a repeat offender and must wear the temporary block as either some dubious badge of honour or treat it like the holiday that it is.

Well, something just got to me about this. A conversation with a friend from a day or so earlier was fresh in my mind. We were – in real life, sitting across from each other – lamenting the absurdity of Facebook’s time-suck. Trying to justify the magic moments by agreeing that the toxic air and cruel comments and the lack of real responsibility was something we were privileged enough to move through without any real triggering or culpability. But that of course didn’t make it feel right. Or good.

Another strange complaint for me personally is that the way I have run my social media in recent years is based around a thing I wrote nearly a decade ago. This piece was originally a guest blog for a NZ website (can’t even remember which one – Book Council perhaps?) Anyway, I was asked to talk about how a writer could use social media to their advantage, how fostering community was a positive and so on…

I talked about showing “the long division” – meaning I used social media to show my workings. To my mind, the criticisms of people suggesting I knew nothing about music, or film, or books, were easy to look past because usually it was someone far too close to the work (a friend or family member or maybe the artist or author themselves) and the reaction was basically one of being butthurt. Sometimes I absolutely got it wrong. And deserved to have this pointed out. But usually, a comments section didn’t reflect that. It was more along the lines of “You suck, bro!” And it usually called me out as being a loner (wrong), a troll (only sometimes, I promise), unloved (no way!) and living in mum and dad’s basement (never).

My idea when social media came into my world, was that I could further my branding by sharing a range of content connected to the ‘work’ I was doing. Facebook was most successful, I think. Some people prefer Twitter, I never have. But what was great about Facebook (when it was great) was the way I could share all my writing – but also related articles or show the blog by anyone else that had prompted my response-piece or the original article that had informed my work; I could ask for suggestions for podcast guests, or promo upcoming episodes, I could ask and respond to questions.

Alongside that I started sharing the movies I was watching, albums being listened to, books being read…in my mind this was showing ‘the work’. As it was being ‘done’. In real time. Or near enough to it.

But somewhere along the way I sometimes had to wonder if I was watching a film to watch the film or more importantly to tell someone I was watching the film. And who was I telling? Everyone. And no one. More likely no one.

Facebook’s echo chamber is a noise-machine, and I was throwing more white-noise at the machine and having that spat back at my face to cloud my focus.

That Facebook can read my messages – and almost my thoughts (apparently) – has of course been a concern. But one I signed away over a decade ago. For that all I would ask in return is that that they actually ban the hate-speech rather than allow such groups to prosper and thrive. Too busy telling me that a thoughtful article about a troubling political issue was ‘likely pornography’.

As far as final straws go, it might not be much. But it was – and is – mine.

And so, I realise I am cutting off a huge part of my audience. I am writing posts on my site and newsletters for your inbox, and they won’t also go on Facebook. They can go on my other social media while I have it (this is a bit-by-bit removal/reduction) but they won’t get the same traction.

But for anyone bummed out temporarily about the loss of a favourite page – if indeed they liked my personal page or the Off The Tracks music page – they will have other favourite pages to spend more time at or will find a new favourite page straight away.

So I know this is all just fish ’n’ chip paper for the internet…

And someone will be lining up to tell me that I am still supporting Facebook by continuing with an Instagram account. Yes, I know that. And for now I am okay with that. I am keeping Messenger going since it’s basically another email account.

I am also okay with anyone that sees the value in Facebook as a personal tool. I wouldn’t have been contacted to write my first book without Facebook – I also used it to connect with many of the people I interviewed to tell those stories.

My second book came about as a direct result of sharing my poems on Facebook.

So I’m a little heavy hearted and a tiny bit curious about my own decision. Is it for the best? Absolutely. But is it the smartest move? Maybe it isn’t. For what is a writer without an audience? Particularly one – like me – that came up through the system of writing specifically for an audience. I was a part-time newspaper hack. And then I was a blogger. And a radio presenter/producer, a podcaster, and a freelancer for magazines and sites. All of it was for an audience – always. All of it was fun while it lasted. And some of it will live on. Some of it will be reborn, reworked.

This is a big step for me – even if this seems trivial, or a no-brainer, or an over-reaction.

This is an attempt to gain perspective and balance and to write for the right reasons: because I love it.

It’s also a hope and a chance to read more – more thoroughly, more often – and to write more in-depth and to tackle those projects I have put in the too-hard basket. Because it’s so much easier to share a meme or funny link or an old picture…

If you want to check in on me at any of the other places, well I catalogue my film watching on Letterboxd. I document all my reading at Goodreads. I have a Discogs account for my (dwindling) record collection. And I used to share all of those things all over Facebook and way too often.

I’m going to do my best now to not.

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