Today I was on Facebook, as I'm sure many people are, and
read a post about an old friend who is currently going through a hard time. It
was a very articulate post; at its end, I felt sad for my friend and wanted to
reach out to this person. But then I thought:
1. Is this person really my friend? Not really. I mean, we
shared some memories years ago, over eight years ago to ballpark it, and we haven’t talked since. This person doesn’t know much about me besides what
I’ve posted on Facebook, and that’s assuming this person has even given my
posts the time of day. This concept of a Facebook “friend” is interesting. Just
a simple “add", then this person becomes your “friend”. I have over a thousand.
But out of these friends, how many actually cared for me through my struggling
times? Nada. None. Zero. Either the threshold level of “friend” is very low, or
we’re kidding ourselves. I’d hope it’s the latter. Anyways, so what function do
they serve? At best, they’re my audience. An audience I can boast to. Or, like
my aforementioned friend, an audience to express my sadness to. Mostly to
receive some passive supportive feedback (i.e. a “like”), or even some rebuke
to which I can refute (we’re in the age of “you can’t invalidate my feelings”). This is simply entertainment and distraction away
from my actual life and worries. I shy away from these types of posts now. I
prefer not to post of my struggles (like anyone could or tries to alleviate
them) nor post of my success (like my recent promotion at work – yet I’ll make
an exception for family to whom I want to share pivotal moments, like my
college graduation). I prefer instead to pose questions and ask for opinions.
This is the best I can receive from my Facebook friends. Sometimes, some opinions are
actually helpful.
2. Say I did reach out to this person. Perhaps I “liked” the
post to commiserate and show solidarity. Perhaps I went a little further and
wrote sympathetic reply to the post. What did I accomplish? I can write pretty
words. And I even meant the words that I wrote. But as soon as I scroll down on
the feed, my mind is elsewhere. Elsewhere amidst my other thousands of friends.
My old friend becomes just another post lost in my working memory. Perhaps an
afterthought over dinnertime. I don’t think my reply really helped my friend. I
think all it did was help me: I received my maximum on investment. I spent the
less amount of effort and received the most amount I could receive in value –
the thought that “I’m a good caring person”. I also diminished any feelings of
guilt that I would have had if I ignored my friend. We’re feeding ourselves
again (see previous post). How self-serving of me. And the scary thing is I
most likely wouldn’t have even known that I was being self-serving. Even
scarier, I can do the same routine over and over again to other “friends”
reaping all the return at a minimum.
3. Of course, 1 and 2 are moot if I actually cared more
about the other person than myself. I can use Facebook to lift others up
instead of myself. This requires me to go beyond what the other 84 likers are
doing. This requires me to connect to that person whom I choose to connect to.
To physically do more than just type on a computer screen. To call up my old
friend and actually offer tangible help besides a Facebook post. You see, often
times atheists would criticize religious for offering “prayers”. Yet, this charade
of investing little effort and receiving maximum return on Facebook is in
effect the same thing: offering little help to the person in need while
actually serving myself and downplaying any guilt. Support is helpful, you say?
Sincere solidarity is a good thing? ... You might as well have said a prayer. I
would have preferred the prayer.
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