Did our parents lead lesser lives just because they had no access to social media platforms?
There will always be pros and cons to sharing every aspect of our lives with friends and family. Representation pic
I found myself in conversation with a 10-year-old a few weeks ago and was informed, in a matter-of-fact manner, that Facebook was over. She had no account of her own on the platform because most social media apps aren’t recommended for anyone below 13. It didn’t stop her from being clear about what was in and what wasn’t though. It took me back to the days of IRC, Orkut, and MySpace, when everyone I knew made it a point to announce their presence at those places wherever possible.
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We had our influencers too, our famous bloggers and outspoken chatroom handles. The emphasis was more on the verbal than visual, because uploading data was still an expensive business and smartphones were rare, but the premise was the same. Everyone had an opinion and wanted to make sure that opinion was shared as loudly and widely as possible.
I have no idea if the death of Facebook is imminent, despite what that little girl believes, but it made me think about life before these platforms came into being. Our parents did everything we continue to do — go on holidays, watch movies, hang out with friends, celebrate anniversaries — but did it without the need to amplify those milestones. There were bad photographs saved as testaments, and the odd crumbling polaroid, but they went about their business without a compulsive need to share every moment of their day with the rest of humanity. Does this mean they had lives that were less full, or less colourful?
My mother has never had a Facebook account, and stays away from Twitter or Instagram. She is aware of their existence, and of the long shadow they cast on the lives of everyone below 30. She has never been tempted to dip her toes in those waters though. I offered to set up an Instagram account for her, assuming the idea of scrolling through beautiful photographs would appeal to her, but she demurred. It simply wasn’t exciting enough for her and prompted me to wonder why I assumed she would like the idea.
I haven’t been on Instagram in a long time, and deleted my Facebook account almost half a decade ago, but still recall the hint of excitement at the back of my mind whenever I would nudge those apps to life. The information they yielded was almost always unnecessary, but that didn’t stop me from checking them every couple of hours, as if to not do that would make me miss an important development in the lives of friends, colleagues, or even casual acquaintances who wanted to be my Facebook buddies.
Friends of mine believe I am being misanthropic in my refusal to get back online. They call me stubborn and ask me how I intend to stay in touch if I can’t be pinged or prodded virtually. They conveniently forget the past they once shared with me, when most of us would have to wait years until MTNL condescended to give us access to a phone line. How did we manage then? How did our grandparents maintain relationships with extended family members that, one could argue, were stronger and deeper than the bonds we forge today?
There will always be pros and cons to sharing every aspect of our lives with friends and family. Social media platforms have done much good, but have also unleashed an overwhelming amount of hate, prejudice, and propaganda into our world. Our parents must have had their own taste of this kind of sudden change when television sets first entered their lives, but it will take decades for us to come to terms with how apps and smartphones have changed the very fabric of society. Until that happens, I continue to look at how it unfolds from the outside, peeping in through a window while trying to maintain what I think is a safe distance.
There will come a point when Twitter and Instagram shut down, when TikTok will give way to the next purveyor of viral content, when Clubhouse will start to charge users money, and when fascist governments will insist on bending the rules of free speech in their favour. When that happens, maybe we will all switch off our phones, breathe in deeply, and step outside our homes to look at the sky. Maybe we will leave the wide world to its devices and concentrate on the sliver and slices of life that lie right before us. Isn’t that what our parents used to do?
When he isn’t ranting about all things Mumbai, Lindsay Pereira can be almost sweet. He tweets @lindsaypereira. Send your feedback to mailbag@mid-day.com
The views expressed in this column are the individual’s and don’t represent those of the paper.
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