
I was recently “deactivated” by Facebook. The details of what I did to get myself taken down aren’t worth going into right here (though if you’re interested in all of the lurid details, you can find them here). What really concerns me is what occurred after I was cut off. Because what actually happened is that I completely disappeared from Facebook. Not in the simple sense that my friends would get a message saying that my account had been deactivated; that would have been fine. What happened was much worse, and says a lot about what can occur when we entrust our social networks to commercial enterprises: I disappeared completely from Facebook. My profile vanished, along with anything I had ever done elsewhere on the service. Posts to friends’ walls: gone. Comments on boards: gone. History of participation in games: gone. In short, it wasn’t just a simple service cut-off. For all intents and purposes, I had been erased. It was as if I had never existed on Facebook.
I eventually opened a new account, and painstakingly rebuilt my network and profile. But I’m still troubled by the way in which my account was disabled. Facebook has become extremely powerful, and countless numbers of people almost literally live their lives within the service’s walled garden. However, Facebook’s power isn’t based on its technology or brand; it’s based solely on its network of users. If those users begin to defect in large numbers, Facebook will rapidly find itself in the same predicament as other former powerhouses that took their users for granted, like AOL, which virtually invented for-profit large-scale social networking without quite realizing it.
Fortunately, Facebook seems to recognize this risk, which is one reason the service has opened itself to so many third-party tools. It’s now extremely easy to maintain an active profile on Facebook without ever actually using the service. This post, for example, was written for my blog, but if you’re reading it on Facebook, you may never know that. Ditto for my updates, which are sucked in straight from Twitter. Of course, this openness is a two-edged sword. The value of Facebook’s network is based on user interaction. If I post on Facebook via third-party tools, and then interact with my friends directly on other platforms (such as comments in my blog, or Twitter replies), rather than Facebook, ultimately Facebook has a lot less value for me, and I may eventually stop checking in at all; my profile will still look active, but it will essentially be an automated shell, with all the real action taking place offsite.
For now, Facebook has the critical mass, and more of my friends communicate there than through Twitter, FriendFeed or any of the other services that allow easy online interaction. Which is why I went through the trouble to reconstruct my profile and nag my contacts to friend me again. But there’s no guarantee that this will remain the case, and if Facebook wants to retain its dominance, it will need to do more than just provide a convenient place for users to share their thoughts, pictures and experiences. It will need to provide better customer service, and be able to assure users that their digital life won’t be snuffed out without notice because of one careless mistake.