By Darren Johnson
Campus News
I’m giving up Facebook for Lent.
It’s not that I’m being particularly religious — one doesn’t even have to be Catholic to consider giving up something for Lent. It’s 40 days and this year starts on March 6. Consider it a spiritual undertaking.
Lent is a great second chance after New Year’s to try to stick to a resolution. You don’t have to give up anything for Lent — instead, you can vow to do something. Say, take up jogging or volunteer at a shelter.
But most people who attempt a Lenten change are trying to reset and recover from a bad habit. Mine is Facebook.
I’ve podcasted about my awful Facebook feed on CampusXM.com. You can download the podcasts there or type “CampusXM” on iTunes.
I don’t know why I feel compelled to keep checking Facebook. Yeah, it’s proven “likes” give one a dopamine rush, but, more so, I think I check it because the Internet overall is kind of boring — just Facebook is slightly less boring. I’m bored, and tired. And Facebook is easy. (But maybe I’m tired because I check Facebook too late into the night? Occasionally, I will check it at 2 or 3 a.m., if awakened by the dog barking or a loud truck outside.)
That said, it’s also rather useless and distracts me from more important things — like reading and writing, and being more present and aware of my family when they are sitting right next to me.
Facebook does none of these things for me: It doesn’t bring me entertainment, it doesn’t make me money and it doesn’t educate me.
Let’s break these down.
Entertainment. Facebook sadly lacks in this area. In my feed right now are some mundane fan posts for TV-show pages I follow (“Did Tony Soprano die in the finale?”), pictures of people’s lunches (yech!), and lots of political nonsense from long lost friends and relatives (Trump!). It’s random and messy and a few people dominate with idiotic memes. This certainly isn’t as elucidating as reading a book or watching a film; yet, it is easier. Thus, my using Facebook as a pacifier is lazy thinking. It is turning my brain’s mental muscles into flab.
Money. I could tolerate Facebook better if it actually made me money in some way. Ads I buy on the site go nowhere — and I was a professional marketer for many years; I understand how to advertise. The stuff I try to sell there doesn’t have a market; I’ve found people to be ad-blind on social media. Facebook, unlike LinkedIn, also isn’t the place to find clients and impress your bosses. And then, the site tries to target me with their ads. For example, recently I was talking in my car about the great massage chairs at Planet Fitness. My phone must have heard me because as soon as I opened Facebook-owned Instagram an ad for one of those chairs appeared ($5000?!). I barely use Instagram, and there that ad was among the first few images. Pretty devious.
Education. Fine, if something isn’t entertaining or at least money-making, maybe it can be enlightening. Reading The New York Times can be like eating your vegetables — you have to do it sometimes, and you may even learn to enjoy it! But Facebook shoves low-quality news at me. Sure, it’s great for breaking headlines (one of The Monkees died?), but even my local news outlets mostly push clickbait at me. For example, a local TV news channel pumped out a story about a kid who was selling hot cocoa to help fund Trump’s border wall. This story is surely provocative — but the kid is in another state. It’s hardly news. The local TV channel is desperate for clicks. These are the kind of stories local media is pushing out on social media. I am not going to learn much going to Facebook; it’s not vegetables – it’s empty calories.
So why do I keep checking out this site? How did Facebook hook me?
It doesn’t matter. Lent will be a good excuse to detox, and I will report back and let you know how it went.
What will I do instead? I will make sure I have a book and a print newspaper nearby at all times. It will be like when I’m on vacation, away from wi-fi. Maybe that’s the reason why I always feel refreshed, and reset, after a vacation. Lent may end up being a 40-day detox from the nonsense that is Facebook.
Maybe you should try this, too?
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