Friends: Now Worth $3.60

Since the rise in popularity of Facebook, the question of "friend or ignore" comes up quite a bit. Dad, aunts, the guy you didn't get along well with in Math class are all showing up with their 60 x 60 pixel pictures in your friend request folder waiting for approval to your life.

When I was working at a company of around 60 people, about 90% were on Facebook and about that same 90% were my on 'Friends List'. We worked together and saw each other everyday and I'd say I genuinely liked all of them (except Glenn, bless his heart). Good times.

Then the layoffs started. I'm a master of the Pink Slip, so I knew how it felt. When the first round happened, everyone I was Facebookey or LinkedInIsh with, I'd sent a note to say if they needed a reference or recruiter names or anything I'd be happy to help. It's just professional and nice and maybe it makes the recipient feel less like they have a case of contagious cancer. Also, I believe your career should be bigger than your job. Jobs come and go. Careers are paths and paths tend to re-cross. Ponying up two sympathetic sentences and maybe a frowny emoticon might make a difference for you later on.



So I got hit in the third round of layoffs. I guess I anticipated the same Utopian treatment I did for others, but no such luck. It wasn't really a big deal, but there were a few people I thought I was really friends with. Either way, I moved on. Initially it was hard to move on; with former co-workers possibly peeking in on my page, maybe checking in to see if I'd become a fan of South Carolina Unemployment System, and then seeing them show up with their work grumbles on my news feed. After about six months, I went through and defriended anyone who I hadn't spoken to.



A year and half later, I get two friend requests from two of the former co-workers within an hour of each other. It seemed odd and turns out it is. The company is holding a contest to see how many new friends each employee can make. Grand prize is $100. The other day, an article ran all over Twitter again trying to monetize social media for the accounting guys. It valued the average fan at $3.60, which I'm sure was the stimulus for the Hundred Dollar Friend Contest.



It stinks on a few levels. The marketing/social media level, I expect to stink because it's business and business pretty much stinks. Especially now, since traditional agencies are going batshit-crazy trying to find a new model. There's a hazy level of poopy odor about defriending them a year ago and them just now wanting to reconnect. And then there is the level that blatantly reeks of "this person friended me for a money incentive."

I am pretty certain the friend requesters didn't put as much thought into the semantics as I did, but hopefully social media will let "friends" still mean "friends" and "fans" be for money-making entities.

Ads quit working because 98% of them lost any sort of truth or sincerity. People were just bombarded by meaningless crap and blocked them out. Social media will burn itself out too, if there's too much babble. People are looking for a meaningful, interesting or fun conversation. Business seems to try to do the exact opposite, attempting to find a communication assembly-line and sell more widgets. It's the endless fun game of trying to bottle truth as it starts to dilute from Day One.



Although, I'd imagine everyone could get quite a few new friends just trolling the company's lengthy layoff roster. (Oh, snap!)

And in case you were wondering the answer to my initial question?

"Ignore."

You’ve Always Been On Facebook Mr Torrance

A few years ago, there was a fantastic series by Errol Morris called First Person. The pinnacle story was about Rick Rosner; a self proclaimed genius, bouncer, "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" contestant. He is likeable, sort of geeky and packs an I.Q. of over 190.

He had taken an IQ test in high school and was baffled at his initially pedestrianly-low score. It haunted him for years afterward, as well as being ghosted by the fact that he couldn’t score with hot cheerleaders.

Having an obsessive mind and a quirky personality, he found a way to shirk the system to fake documentation to go back to high school for a second senior year.

What a dream: to relieve your youth with the knowledge of an adult! All mistakes would be erased and Rick could get the prom queen too!

It's hard not to like or at least associate with Rick’s plight, after all, the “popular” or “cool” folk are a minority. Like the leader of all nerds, Gilbert, said in Revenge of the Nerds “There are a lot more of us then there are of you.”

(Gilbert in the throes of romance/panty raid)

Rick said without this closure, he could never really move on.

Rick went back for his second year and his test score was better, but his girl score was bringing him failing marks. He just couldn’t wrap his math head around it. He knew one more run at a third year, he could get the prom queen.

No dice. No dice after 7 repeated attempts at high school perfection.


(Watch through Part 6 on YouTube)

At first, the idea is intriguing, but after 7 years of his post-high school life, “get over it” comes to mind, but with his obsessive mind it “does not compute.”

The ritual of graduation is really one of the few closures to high school that our Western culture has. In a lot of cases, there are people who you went to elementary school with, grew up with in your neighborhood and watched become young adults. And after graduation, everyone gets rocketed out to different parts of the country to go to college, fragmenting their childhood and getting thrust into inexpensive beer rituals of adulthood.

That’s where most Western kids become adults. At the end of a beer funnel. But, nevertheless, it’s a test.

In many primitive cultures, the test has been much more pointed and profound than a keg stand at a frat party.

The Congolese Kota’s ritual death of adolescence is a very hard line. They realize that for the adult to be fully born, that the child inside must die first. They paint their faces with a bright, bold blue to signify the ghost their childhood has become.


(Sorry about the watermark on the photo. Think of it as symbolic or something...)

Things are a little more complex for the adult rituals of the Candomble of Brazil. The children are isolated for six months and their heads are shaved. They enter a trance state where they become a spirit and it’s said “they become the horse of the god that rides them”. Sounds a little more in-depth than sitting in a sweltering gym wearing mortarboards.

Western culture doesn’t completely lack the ritual that is solely focused on adulthood, but the ones we have are dying. A son’s first kill was something important prior to the 20th century. Debutante balls are almost unheard of except in the deep south. These rituals are essential to achieve what psychologist Robert Moore calls “calm, secure maturity.”

Modern convenience and technology has been criticized for decades bringing us “push button mentality” and instant gratification. It’s making spoiled brats out of us all. Louis CK said it best on Conan O’Brien’s show:



Where things take an even more difficult turn, is now, with Facebook.

It’s great for mid-adults since, we (hopefully) are secure in ourselves and our self-worth, but we have had years to get a good foothold on adulthood. We’ve experienced our separation from our childhood tribe.

But imaging being in second grade now and getting on Facebook with the rest of your second grade class. Granted, Facebook may not be around next year at this time and we’ve all moved on to MySpace 360, FriendsterXtreme or some new social media application, but the potential is now there to remain in contact with almost everyone you’ve ever met.

It’s great for keeping strong alliances with friends forever, so BFF, can really mean BFF. But, it’s not going to allow for an easier transition from childhood to adulthood.

Early elementary school behavior are quick to be dismissed, but many remnants of high school age can carry over to adulthood since the lines of adult consciousness are so currently blurred.

Like most new technology, there are challenges. The human conscience is always a few steps behind, so Facebook may just be providing a new challenge or a new ritual for teens to cope with. Maybe the key to becoming an adult in the Web 2.0 generation may be as simple as clicking the “delete friend” button on your high school adversaries.