Facebook has been getting slammed recently. And rightfully so given CEO Mark Zuckerberg’s nonchalant dismissal of privacy. But while his stance on shared content is simple, Facebook’s official privacy policy is actually quite complex. The most recent revision is nearly 6,000 words, exceeding the policies from Flickr, MySpace, Friendster, Twitter and even the US Constitution in length. See here for infographics.
Let me first say that I understand that anything I put online, on Facebook or wherever, is fair game. It’s out there and will continue to float around until the end of time. I don’t always like this, but it’s a reality I’ve come to accept. That being said, I, like most people at first, assumed that my Facebook profile was a sort of safe haven. It was a private network that I monitored over, granting access to those who I considered “friends” in my social circle. Since Facebook has changed, so too have my expectations of what exactly can be considered private content.
In a recent post, Conrad Lisco brings up these changes while highlighting the fundamental difference between publishing and sharing content. He points out that the original expectation was that we’d be able to share media with our created public, but not necessarily with the whole, entire public. We thought we would have control over our network(s), but clearly that sentiment was never shared by Zuck and his staff. We were duped.
So, now what? We don’t have the privacy we once thought we did, but we continue to rely on social media to help maintain and foster our everyday relationships. How can we regain (some) control without taking drastic measures?
Well, I think it all starts with a cleanse. My twitter friend Danielle posted this message the other day and it struck a cord (Her tumblr also directed me to the Lisco post).
Maybe Facebook will become more social by getting less crowded. What I mean by this is that concerns about privacy might just make people more selective about who they consider friends in the first place. By trimming the fat, you put yourself in position to regain some privacy while creating a richer social experience. Your newsfeed will become more relevant. Your network will become more clearly defined. And you will reclaim (some of) the trust that the new public Facebook has helped to erode.
When Facebook launched we all scrambled to friend people. It was a race. I was in college when all this went down and I couldn’t friend people fast enough. Met you once? Friend. Made out with you? Friend (maybe). Did I know these people? Not at all, but I wanted to stay connected. Like everyone else in college I wanted to keep tabs on everything that was happening. Back then, that was social.
Now, it’s about maintaining connections with the people I know and love the most. It’s about sustaining relationships and sharing meaningful content with aunts and uncles and second cousins. It’s not the same Facebook.
Here is a chart I made last night to help illustrate my point. (if it sucks it’s because I made it at 4am). I took the average of monthly contributions (pieces of shared content) and divided it among our five main (social media) food groups. If this diet is going to work we need to stick to a food pyramid, or in this case, an optimization chart. By limiting the fats, oils and sweets of the “whos” and the “randos” we can begin to develop more powerful and meaningful interactions with the people we care about most. The optimization zone.
Loose privacy standards have altered, or will alter, the way we choose to participate. I believe that given the current and confusing state of Facebook privacy, all users are left with two options: 1) quit, or 2) trim your friends. The former seems a little dramatic to me, but people are doing it (also, see the rise of alternatives MySpace and Diaspora). This is why rethinking your online friendships is an inevitable duty.
So I say be selective. De-friend people. It always seems like a heartless move until you stop getting random invitations to join Farmville. Crispin and Burger King figured this out early which aided to their success with the Whopper Sacrifice campaign. What they discovered was simple. We all have superfluous connections. We can afford to lose some friends, maybe lots, without ruining anything about the experience. In this case, I’m arguing that it will become stronger and maybe, just maybe, more private.
