When Facebook is down things are looking up
THERE’S a scene towards the end of the Jim Carrey movie The Cable Guy where an entire town’s satellite service is wiped out.
“What are we going to do now?” the frustrated armchair viewers start moaning.
The 1996 film then cuts to another home where a man reaches for a book.
I thought of that scene when Facebook, Instagram and WhatsApp went down for several hours twice last week.
Far from panicking at my place, we actually managed to get a few things done.
Yes the service outage was a reminder that we rely far too heavily on the information super-highway.
But it was also a chance to remember some of the other things out there to enjoy, particularly in a society that speaks to each other less and less.
The service outage couldn’t have been better timed, either.
It came as US whistleblower Frances Haugen, an ex-Facebook employee, revealed thousands of pages of internal research suggesting that the firm was – and still is – well aware of the harm its content can cause. And yet it does nothing about it. I suspect I was among many parents reminding their children – and themselves – that the whole unseemly episode was a warning.
Mainly that we should not leave ourselves at the mercy of a company that, in the opinion of many, places profit over our wellbeing.
In addition, the idea that Facebook owner Mark Zuckerberg would go on holiday rather than defend himself in person over the allegations seemed ridiculous.
As ludicrous as believing civil servants working from home here were responsible for leaving Afghan translators behind to their fate at the hands of the Taliban. It helped, however, to make the point superbly. Zero accountability at a time when we need answers, with our mental health – at stake.
We use social media for so much, too much, these days.
We are a society endlessly running our index finger down a bit of plastic in an interconnected world.
Last week was a glimpse at an alternative reality. I wouldn’t mind a third outage, maybe for a week or so please.
We are society endlessly running our finger down a bit of plastic