Facebook users were starting to tune out before the latest revelation, the news that it was Facebook itself that generated the core data used for micro-targeting U.S. voters on social media with fake news stories in the 2016 election. There was (and still is) no mass exodus of users deleting their accounts, and it is not that users were getting bored, but an increasing number of users were going out of their way to avoid opening the site and the app. The thinking, if I may attempt to paraphrase it, is something like, “I want to stay connected, but couldn’t I go for three weeks before checking in again? How about four weeks? Five weeks?”
This line of thinking is, obviously, a form of aversion. It is not the same thing I saw six years earlier when people were feeling hassled by propaganda directed their way by their psychopathic friends on Facebook, people who they either needed to mute or unfriend. No, the problem now is with Facebook itself. Facebook has become like that friend who isn’t really your friend anymore but is involved in a Bitcoin pyramid marketing scheme and is trying to feel out your level of interest in Bitcoin without being too obvious or owning up to any of it, except that they are being too obvious and you’re starting to feel creeped out talking to them. This is not what someone on Facebook is doing, this is what Facebook itself is starting to feel like to longtime users. It is trying just a little too hard to find out its users’ thoughts, opinions, histories, preferences. It is being a little too obvious about it.
Users feel a sense of apprehension on Facebook similar to the feeling of walking into a bar when you know your ex-spouse might be there and there are cameras in every corner. You want to be on your best behavior, say as little as possible, and get out as fast as possible before something bad happens. Yet as you leave, you wonder, did something bad happen? How would you know?
This kind of apprehension, the feeling that goes with an unsafe place, comes from an unconscious memory of bad experiences there, but it also reflects a sense of the roles in the place. Facebook users feel targeted. Or, to say it using another word, Facebook users feel preyed upon.
This is what they’re telling me. I have never been on Facebook myself except to assist users in deleting their accounts. I don’t believe any of my close friends are still particularly active on Facebook, so this is a summary of reports from less close friends, including some accounts that I have heard secondhand. But this is the consensus of what I am hearing. I think most Facebook users will acknowledge this view of Facebook, even if not all will agree.
So Facebook is the wolf in the hills, users are trying to keep a safe distance, and then the news comes out about Facebook’s supposedly indirect involvement in the strategy of micro-targeting users for fake political news. There are several problems with this series of revelations, and the fact that Facebook threatened to sue a newspaper that wasn’t even the paper that broke the story is not even the worst of it. No, the worst is that there is no reason to believe Facebook’s assertion that it wasn’t directly involved and had no knowledge of the advertising-targeting algorithms. If that’s true, then why were Facebook engineers working onsite at the customer that was doing that analysis until the Monday after the weekend when the story broke? To a naive business news reader, it certainly seems like Facebook saw itself as a partner in a joint venture.
And it only gets worse. Users are downloading their data history from Facebook and are shocked at the extent of the data. It is not just a record of every click a user ever made on the Facebook site. There are records of actions on completely unrelated sites, dates and times of phone calls and text messages not made through the Facebook app or even with the app open, the names of every onetime Facebook friend. The text of messages that users thought they had sent privately to another Facebook user is in their permanent record. When people see this kind of thing, they can’t ever unsee it.
So in a few more days of this we will all understand that:
- Facebook is stalking its users with obsessive detail.
- Facebook is, at best, extremely careless about who has access to this data.
- This is not a safe arrangement for Facebook users.
This is why Facebook will not survive this data security debacle in its current form. A decade ago when the world was flocking to Facebook, it was for the sake of security. People were trying to get away from the security risks of the open Internet, particularly the overwhelming spam load of Internet email and the attack vectors built into innocent-looking web pages. Facebook offered a degree of protection from that.
By now, the shoe is on the other foot. Browsers have improved to the point where users can feel relatively protected from rogue web pages. Email services have done a reasonably good job at filtering out harmful messages, so that, believe it or not, there is actually less spam email than there was 10 years ago. People feel relatively confident about signing in to email these days.
No, now it is signing in to Facebook that gives people the jitters. In my opinion, the users who originally moved to Facebook for the sake of online security will not stay around now that Facebook is seen as possibly the largest privacy threat on the Internet.
The mere observation that Facebook is “losing its hold” on users contains the context that users feel like Facebook has its claws in them. Users feel like they are the object of Facebook rather than the agent of their Facebook experience. Facebook had already lost the hearts of users before they reached the question, “What will Facebook do to us next?”
Tens of thousands of users have deleted their accounts in the last five days. That’s not many, of course, though it is a number large enough to represent a measurable hit to Facebook revenue. The greater concern to Facebook, though, is the larger number of users who have gone silent. They still check in several times a month or at least several times a year, they read posts, but they are careful to avoid posting anything or liking anything. Maybe they’ll just post a holiday greeting in early December as a way to reassure relatives that they are still alive.
They’re still users, right? But for those with a sense of history, this is exactly how the old MySpace ended. It is not that users deleted their accounts in large numbers. They simply stopped posting. Once a site reaches the point where no one with any sense is posting new content, then there is nothing for users to read. They check in after three weeks and nothing has happened with any of their friends. “Maybe I don’t have to check in quite so often,” they think. Soon, they’re forgetting to check in for months at a time. By the time a user reaches this point, there is no possible way for the platform to win this user back. The user is no longer paying attention.
That was MySpace. But Facebook may already be far enough down that slippery slope that there is no realistic prospect of climbing back up.