I’ve used Facebook nearly since its inception. I’m rarely on it now. Not because I’ve lost interest. I see it as a valuable tool for staying in touch with friends from my lifelong journey living in various locales around the world.
My hiatus is intentional, and for two reasons – both having to do with the macro political picture.
First, I, like most everybody, burned out on politics during last year’s election season. After a whole 18-month marathon of political ads in a swing state, it was more than enough. Too much.
The second reason is more personal, more introspective.
Politics matters to me, and I allow myself to get dragged into debates and even rants in support of things I believe. This proves to be a problem because politics isn’t the center of my existence, my day job or – despite my passion around it – particularly relevant to my mission in life.
That’s not to say it doesn’t have some level of importance, but when I give it too much attention it overwhelms my mind, takes too much focus away from where my efforts should be and, in an era so divided and personally tailored by our algorithmic preferences, it harms relationships.
Back in October I found some information I believed would be beneficial to a friend I’ve had for nearly 40 years, pertaining to some challenges one of their family members had struggled with in the past. So, I decided to send them the article about it via Facebook Messenger, which I really don’t use, but it seemed more prudent than publicly posting it on their page.
When I went to send it to them, I couldn’t find them in my list of friends. I searched the broader Facebook realm and found them — and found out we were no longer listed as “friends” on the app.
Now this isn’t someone I knew in Europe in the 1980s and have never seen since. We’ve been real friends, visited one another over the years, helped one another with things and often spoke on the phone. I was a bit shocked to find myself “unfriended.”
But I had a good sense of why. We’d had several online disagreements about politics. We’ve seen culture change to the point where folks — due in no small part to the gradual spoiling brought on by the “bespoke” nature of digital preferences being filed away and used to tailor our computerized world in ways that affirm our preferences and keep away that which we dislike — often choose to cut folks from their lives over differences.
I know of folks who’ve skipped family members’ weddings and other significant life celebrations over holding opposite political beliefs — even cases where siblings who’ve spent decades vacationing and feasting at holidays together have cut one another off.
Upon discovering this change in status, I went back through my friend’s timeline to try to figure out when this occurred, only to discover they’d suffered through some difficult things in the interim. Things for which I would not have hesitated to hop in my vehicle and head to be at their side in support of them.
But I didn’t get the chance because I’d let political arguments drive a wedge into our relationship.
In my world, that’s not OK.
So I decided that Facebook is a momentary stop to say hi, share an encouragement or gripe about the sad state of Pittsburgh sports, but not a place to endanger friendships over national politics or my opinion of worldwide crises.
It’s simply not worth it. I get one ride on this spiraling rock, and I want those folks God has given to my life to ride alongside me down through the years to be there, and to be there for them.
That doesn’t mean I won’t wade into battles over the direction of my town or stand up on behalf of someone here in the circles in which I travel – sometimes those things exact a painful price, but depending on the issue, the battle may need to be had just the same.
But it does mean that I want to be more considerate and weigh things in order to not unnecessarily harm friendships over matters, or in venues, that don’t really necessitate my opinion.
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