Because of our society’s current obsession with documenting our lives using social media websites (Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, etc.), I sometimes wonder whether our interest in these social tactics will one day fade away, joining AOL profiles and datebooks in the communicative methods cemetary.
Of course, advances in technology will change the face of the game, but as a small-minded, nearly college-educated Midwesterner, I cannot see quite that far into the future. Therefore, I beg you to imagine with me the fate of our generation if we were to continue using social media to update the world about our “unadventures” well into our elderly years.
To begin, I want to consider the “Friend Effect.” In this case, I intend “friends” to mean Facebook friends (you know, the official kind). As we transition into our upper 20s, 30s and beyond, will social media lead us to having more friends than our parents do, or will we slowly lose friends as everyone goes through purges to remove those pesky people of the past you just do not care to be updated on anymore?
On the other hand, maybe we will keep all of our friends to facilitate the creeping of weddings, babies, midlife crises and the like. Keeping in touch with your college buddies is just a few pokes away, and reminding that hot girl from high school that you still exist is as easy as liking her status update about a crappy day at work. No more awkward phone tag with that friend you feel guilty for losing touch with, no more embarrassing visits to your old roommates child-inhabited suburban ranch house. Just post a video on their wall: Friendship secured.
What’s more, while our parents lost touch with acquaintances and old friends, we will have far too many friends and too many people knowing what we have been up to. Will we have zero conversation starters at class reunions when there is no need to pull out your wallet full of pictures of your kids? Everyone has already seen them online. Worse than that, how will you behave when you run into that girl you unfriended way back in 2021?
And then there is the issue of figuring out the right time to delete your account, if such a time even exists. Where will the pictures of your life go? How will you know if people like what you are thinking about at that second? How will you break the news that you are leaving the Facebook world? You might have a 60-year-long timeline with which your life could actually flash in front of anyone’s eyes (depending on your privacy settings of course). Your grandchildren will not even bother to sit on your lap and listen to what life was like back in the old days. They will simply log in and click through your pictures, watching you grow younger, Benjamin Button style, back to when you were born into the Facebook world in 2006.
Perhaps particularly noteworthy tweets and status updates will be read as part of wedding vows and eulogies. “Courtney once tweeted ‘FUCK HANGOVERS, live life to the fullest #sorrynotsorryy #partygirlproblems.’”
On another note, our babies’ lives will mostly likely be documented publicly before they can even say “mama” (or “Facebook” for that matter). Family albums will include Facebook comments, and pictures will be placed in the album in order of most likes. And framed in the nursery will be a picture of a baby, iPhone in hand, above it reading “Baby’s First Tweet.”
While all of this is absolutely ridiculous, I guess I am trying to make a point. Because we document our lives more excessively and unnecessarily than any generation before, we are dooming ourselves to be a part of a really indulgent chapter in the history books.
With that in mind, perhaps the next time you attempt to take a drunk “selfie” at a dirty basement party, do yourself a favor and think of your grandchildren’s horrified faces as they find out what Nana did for fun in her heyday.
Are you excited for your grandkids to see you drunk on UV Blue? Tell Emily so at elindeman@wisc.edu.
