The Unfriending Project
Let me ask you a question before we start: Do you hate social media or do you hate your friends?
Or, more specifically, what your friends post?
Because that's what I find to be the issue I have with social media. Seeing a side of my friends that I don't like, plain and simple.
If I go on social media and feel bad, how much of that is caused by what is being shown to me, and how much of it is because of what my friends are posting?
The platforms can really only show me what I choose to follow, right? Be it businesses, sites, pages, groups, and friends. Hating how I feel after going on a platform says less about the platform itself and more about the quality of the posts I'm seeing.
It's a little like how people who are stuck in a traffic jam will always complain about the other drivers, not recognizing that at the moment they're making that complaint, they're not "in" traffic—they are traffic. They're essentially complaining about themselves.
If I'm on social media complaining about social media, I'm really complaining about myself; specifically, what I choose to follow or engage with while I'm on it.
Or, more to the point, I'm not "on" social media—I am social media, and that makes me part of the problem.
And, yes, social media has numerous issues, especially Facebook, most of which are related to privacy and security breaches and exploitative practices on the part of the companies.
That's all there, but come on, that's not what's affecting your mental health and wellness after you scroll your way through your feed.
It's all the assholes you're friends with or following.
You don't stay up late at night fuming over Mark Zuckerberg's reptilian conquest of humanity through the Book of Faces.
You stay up late at night because your idiot friend just posted about something he knows nothing about but, thanks to a YouTube video, now considers himself informed enough about the topic to disagree with the foremost experts in the world.
That right there? That's why you hate social media.
I know that's why I hate it.
I realize that my relationship with social media is a little more complex than the simple binary of love versus hate, and yours probably is, too.
My first mistake is seeing social media as communication platforms that are meant to enrich the human experience.
They're not. Not at all.
It's not one-to-one or even one-to-many communication, as we usually understand these concepts.
It's directionless cultural homogeneity that is flattening the human experience by removing mechanisms of cooperation or even collaboration in the pursuit of freedom of expression.
That's the first thing I had to come to grips with as I considered why social media made me feel bad about myself, the world around me, and life in general.
The second thing has less to do with the failings of social media for deep communication purposes and more to do with the connection it purports to provide.
A disclaimer of sorts:
A lot of what I'm going to talk about is based on my experiences with Facebook, but not exclusively so.
It's just that Facebook is where I clarified much of the vision I had for what I'm going to say in this essay, or more precisely, how I came to the conclusions I did through my experiences on that specific site.
Other social media platforms are not exempt from my overall critique just because they're not being named directly.
It's just that Facebook is more recognizable to more people based on user volume alone, and it's the one that's inclined to see people connect in a way that most closely resembles how friendships develop IRL through shared interests or familiar connections.
That gives it a little more promise than many of its competitors. It's the one thing Facebook does better than most.
Still, it's a hollow process compared to the analog version of meeting someone in a place through joint interests or doing an activity that appeals to both parties and leads to bonding.
It's just that, as superficial friendship-forming processes go, it's better than many of the alternative connection-building platforms out there.
X, nee Twitter, is guilt by association in that two people are probably equally prejudiced against the same out-group, Instagram doesn't know what it is anymore, and users are united by their confusion, TikTok is spyware posing as a fun distraction that brings people together to get hacked, and LinkedIn is a spam farm where everyone is helping someone make something with nothing to show for anything.
See what I mean? Every platform has its issues. Facebook is just the easiest one to explore these issues with because of its ubiquity and scope. It's everywhere and does everything.
So, if I say Facebook, I'm using it as a catchall term for social media in general, in all its dumpster-fire glory. The problems endemic to one are often endemic to all. It's a matter of severity at this point.
The singularity is that they're all bad for us in a general sense if not strictly managed.
I just wanted to clarify that before getting into the main topic of negative social media experiences; more to the point, negative social media experiences brought about by the people we call our friends on social media.
That's the key point to all of this.
Our so-called friends.
I went through a phase where I would accept every friend request that came my way. I often did this because the friend requests I would get came from "mutual friends," as it's called, or, on occasion, from members of Facebook groups that I was also a member of because of common interests.
I've always tried to screen requests by asking these mutual friends about the person in question, but I was relatively easygoing about whom I'd say yes to.
What I learned in time is that my social media experience reflects my social media connections. The less I enjoy the platforms I'm on, the more likely it is that I'm connected to people I shouldn't be. I should have scrutinized these connections before just haphazardly accepting them.
That's really not the platform's fault.
That was the driver for me as far as enjoying social media less and less as friends or connections accumulated, and I found myself confronting the thoughts and feelings of people whom I didn't much like upon further exposure.
I often accepted friend requests or connections from people I would, it turns out, avoid in real life based on the rhetoric they were espousing in their daily posts, even if they were friends of friends.
Within one or two posts from these folks, I'd know unequivocally that I didn't really think all that highly of them. Accepting their request to connect was a mistake, and I'm the one who made it.
Not Facebook and not Mark Zuckerberg.
Worse than that, though? I'd stay friends with these people even after I realized that I didn't really like them, or at least how they represented themselves online.
All because it felt better to keep them than get rid of them, even though I couldn't really articulate why.
Maybe it was the friend count, or maybe it was the social-validation feedback loop. Either way, I let the whole experience ride when I really should have been more discerning.
It was as if my success in life depended on my ability to stay connected to all of these people. It's a trap that way, but one that is actually a choice we make. Or, more often than not, don't make.
Why do we remove that choice just because of the medium?
It seems like we stay connected to people we really don't like all that much based on the posts they make or the comments they share more often than we excise these same people from our feeds for the same things when the evidence is overwhelmingly in favor of doing so.
You know you really don't like this person, but you belong to the same martial arts club or play the same sport or share a career path, so you remain friends with them. Yet, outside of those narrow domains, there is nothing to really bind you together.
Maybe these people are really not worth knowing. Maybe they're actually assholes who use social media to say and share things they would never talk about or do in an analog setting. It's a bait and switch.
That's ruining the whole social media experience because it keeps us connecting to people we don't want to be associated with at all. That's brutal.
Part of it is because Facebook really doesn't want you to unfriend anyone. None of the social media platforms do. Think about it.
Facebook, specifically, offers all sorts of alternatives like unfollowing them but remaining friends, so-called "snoozing" them so you can take a break from their assholery or hiding the post that you don't like with a quick click of a button.
That right there should give you pause.
It did for me.
When Facebook or any social site tries to slow you down when trying to assert your preferences about the connections you have, there's something corrupt and unseemly about the whole process.
When I realized that these platforms wanted me to stay connected to people I didn't like, I started disconnecting from people with little to no warning.
When Facebook started showing me people I had previously unfriended in friend suggestions, I started blocking those same people so that Facebook couldn't do that anymore.
It shouldn't be that difficult. It is, though, because there's more money to be made in keeping everyone connected.
It makes the advertising easier and the marketing more manipulative, both of which allow for greater profits.
I've been asked why I bother to unfriend or block people by others, especially mutual friends who might find themselves in the awkward position of being asked why Ryan unfriended so and so.
I don't always have a satisfying answer for them.
I have an honest one, though: I don't like assholes.
Sure, if they're bullying or trolling, they deserve to get unfriended or blocked—that totally makes sense to most people.
But what's the point of unfriending or blocking people who aren't necessarily being bullies or trolls, just assholes hiding behind a keyboard and spouting off idiocy.
What if they're just annoying?
To me, that's enough. It should be enough for you too.
I mean, what's the threshold if it's not that? Do we have to wait for them to post a manifesto and threaten people before we decide that, hey, maybe it's time to move on from this person?
I ain't waiting that long. This person is making my social media experience negative enough without letting it get to that point.
Does that make all of social media negative?
No, it doesn't. It means that I need to take some control of what I let into my life on social media or anywhere else.
I think it comes down to something I have been telling people for years. The friends in your life are not there to make you happy. That's not their responsibility nor is it a good practice to always be seeking happiness from external sources that are notoriously unreliable.
That's not what I'm saying here when I stipulate my "no asshole" approach to curating my friends list.
I measure the quality of my relationships based on whether they make me unhappy or not. I'll take care of my happiness, just don't ruin it for me and we can remain friends. Make sense?
But if I go on social media and see that a friend is posting about things that are just dumb and that's making me unhappy? I just unfriend them now.
I don't mind disparate or diverging opinions. Those are important to a well-rounded worldview. I don't even mind being friends with assholes under the right circumstances given that we're talking about ethically-centered assholes.
I get that everyone has their beliefs and values, and we're better for the diversity. To a point.
And a fair question to ask is who am I to make these judgments about any of it?
How am I in any better a position to decide who's an asshole and who isn't and what's to be done about it?
The answer is complex and comes in two parts: a "me" part and a "you" part.
I'm the end-user that the social media platforms want to advertise to—I'm the one who voluntarily opts into a system that mines my data and online activities for profit so that it can attempt to manipulate me with tailored marketing campaigns.
That's bad enough, so why should I put up with a bunch of assholes masquerading as friends too?
I shouldn't.
You shouldn't either.
No social media platform is truly free, and that's well and good. Capitalism is a thing. I get that the convenience of what is being offered comes at a privacy cost to us all.
Some of us are good at resisting it, and some of us are victims of every sponsored ad, data-pulling quiz, and tracking app disguised as a game that gets suggested to us.
If that's the case, though? I want to be surrounded by good people, meaningful connections, and positive influences.
I want my digital environment to be one that I benefit from by way of empowering and supportive connections while fending off corporate interests from every other facet of the experience.
If I have a friend on my list whose posts make it into my feed as they troll people in the comments section of a news article, I have to ask myself what the point of staying friends with them is.
I don't want to see that type of content.
I certainly don't want to be friends with someone who participates in random arguments on the internet and goes out of their way to antagonize others in comments sections.
I can understand the impulse but can't condone the actual act.
I find it even more repugnant when it's about a topic that I know my friend has zero expertise in.
Are we really letting people get away with this type of online behavior because of friendship?
Because that's sad.
It makes me unhappy when I see it.
And the one thing I ask of in a relationship is not to make me unhappy.
Also, nobody is changing the world for the better by arguing online with strangers.
I see enough of that from a friend and I just cut them loose from my feed.
Why stay friends? I deserve better.
I mean, we all do.
I once shared the following quote on Facebook: "You must find the courage to leave the table if respect is no longer being served."
It remains true, but especially so on social media.
People who show up in your feeds with a barrage of argumentative or cynical observations are doing nothing for your health and wellness other than eroding whatever level of equanimity and enjoyment might have existed before their arrival.
It's not just about serving me or even you respect, either. It's about serving respect to the world at large and the people in it.
That's what everyone gets wrong about that quote in my opinion. They just apply it to themselves and their feelings, which, fair enough.
But it works even better as a filter for everyone in your circle of friends.
You should be willing to leave the table when respect isn't being served to ANYONE.
Because a friend who will disrespect strangers online will inevitably disrespect you.
Haters gonna hate. Trolls gonna troll.
Maybe not to your face. Probably behind your back.
But disrespect you they will. Assholes can't help themselves.
Social media seems so vast and it seems to encourage people to say or do things they wouldn't do in a room full of people or one on one.
The internet and the socials on it seem like this unfathomable expanse that goes on forever and is seemingly populated with every human being in the world.
That expansiveness and the diffusion of accountability it fosters make people braver behind their keyboards than they would otherwise be in real life.
It's the difference between swimming in the ocean when you know there are killer whales in it and swimming in the pool at SeaWorld with Tilikum.
The water is infinitely deeper in the latter, but the danger exponentially increases in the former.
The infinite deep is intoxicating for some people. They avoid the pool because they know how dangerous it is, but the ocean provides an escape that the pool doesn't.
It offers avoidance by way of reduced proximity to seafaring mammals or people who will bite your fucking face off because of your bullshit.
The feeling of being part of this massive collective that allows you to communicate near-instantly with people from all over the world is also something that appeals to us as social animals, even when we're using these platforms to be antisocial.
When you're not on it or using it, it can feel weirdly dehumanizing and ironically disconnecting.
It's not so much #fomo as it is the sense that you're living on an analog island in a digital ocean. You're not experiencing a fear of missing out because you don't even know what's happening.
Applying the "one bad apple doesn't spoil the whole bunch" philosophy to social media is all well and good, but social media often feels more like apple juice than apples.
And if I poured a teaspoon of piss into a glass of apple juice, I'm pretty sure you'd pour it all out and go thirsty instead.
That's where I was with social media. Tired of drinking piss-flavored apple juice.
I left Facebook a couple of years ago, as much to start my YouTube channel as to take an analog break from the digital grind that social media represents.
The moment I deleted Facebook, I instantly felt like a burden was lifted.
I also deleted Instagram, Twitter, and TikiTok completely, as well as social fitness sites like Strava and MyFitnessPal.
It was a legitimately welcome break from each and every one of them when I did.
I realized shortly thereafter, though, that the platforms weren't entirely the problem. The friends were. The connections at the heart of the social media experience.
That was a sobering realization. It changed my entire perspective on social media. It eventually led to my return.
I'm back on Facebook because it has its uses, but my contact curation has changed to reflect a new perspective on digital social connections.
I want my experience on social media to be positive. Or, at least, not negative.
To that end, I'm going to enjoy the experience by removing that which makes it less enjoyable.
Friends.
I'm getting rid of as many of them as I can.
As an extension of the quote I shared, I would also leave the table if enjoyment wasn't being served.
I wouldn't hesitate to leave or end a friendship that made me feel slighted in any way, shape, or form.
Staying on a social platform and suffering through the posts of people I don't like is a ridiculous notion.
It's like Stockholm Syndrome as the layperson believes it to exist, or learned helplessness in the face of people hijacking my joy or eroding it to nothing because I let them.
The problem isn't social media if I don't have a positive experience in the face of these considerations.
The problem is my lack of boundaries.
My inability to enforce those boundaries is another problem.
An unwillingness to remove negative influences, in the form of people or content, is why the whole endeavor feels like a negative downward spiral.
It can be, sure.
It doesn't have to be, though.
I started 2021 with 330 friends on Facebook, down from around 400 in 2020.
I was at 250 as I entered the last quarter of that year.
By New Year's Day of 2022, I was well under 200.
As of this writing, I’m closing 2023 at 188 friends and hoping for fewer before 2024 arrives.
My goal is to achieve a total that aligns with Robin Dunbar's number and to make those the best quality connections I can maintain.
That will be a result of me leaving the table, so to speak, because respect and enjoyment are not being served.
This goes both ways, too.
See something from me on Facebook or social media that you don't like or that hurts your feelings? You should unfriend me.
We probably wouldn't get along in real life, so why stay connected to me on social media?
I'm definitely going to unfriend you if I see something that bothers me enough to lower my enjoyment of social media.
Besides, you'll be helping me reach my goal of reducing my friend count by unfriending me on Facebook if we're currently connected there. Thanks, buddy.
Sure, it gets a little more complex when the person you're unfriending is an actual friend in real life, but even then—friendships aren't meant to last forever.
Society has this oddly romanticized view of friendship as a somehow unending result of two people sharing an interest at some point in their lives.
That's nice when it happens, but it's not guaranteed.
Some people don't evolve as they age and some people do. You can't expect the latter to stay friends with the former as interests and intellect diverge.
It's okay to outgrow people—even people you used to like.
Friendships end. It's healthy when they do.
Or, as in social media, people you didn't really know when you first became friends turn out to be people who need to be unfriended.
That first impression was enough to give it a try, but that's not exactly a lot of effort when you think about it. There's almost no due diligence there and that can create friction.
It seems to take very little to prompt a friend request from one person to another. Overlapping participation in a sport, hobby, or career can be all it takes to feel a connection to someone.
Ding. Friend request sent.
Okay, fair enough.
But if you're willing to send friendship requests so readily, then you must be equally willing to remove those people when it's clear that the relationship is less than superficial in value or worth.
And if it's making you unhappy, it definitely needs to end.
Your friend count isn't a reflection of your worth as a person, but it could be affecting your self-worth.
It's certainly affecting how you feel about yourself, social media, and the confluence of both, as well as the effects that ripple through your day-to-day living that are both obvious and hidden.
That's your "friends" list, and it's an insidious reducer of equanimity and joy.
Start reducing it and see if you don't suddenly have a better relationship with social media...and yourself.
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