As college students, we are the members of what many call the "Internet generation." We are the constant inhabitants of the Internet — rarely does a trinket of pop-culture knowledge pass by unseen. We spend our days glued to our devices, checking what our friends are doing, celebrities are saying and politicians are regretting.
Scientists and prognosticators often speak of a time in the distant future when the human race will attain "singularity" — that is, an era when technology is so advanced that machines will constantly interface with humans without interruption. While we do not yet have blood-cell sized repair bots running through our veins and intelligence modifiers in our brains, the first stage of this metamorphosis is already upon us.
Facebook is the crowning jewel of this age of presingularity. Social-media addiction is a well-documented blight upon the younger generation. Indeed, the little red notification indicator has become akin to a drag on a cigarette. We crave responses on our statuses and pictures because we are addicted to gratification. We want to know that in a country of hundreds of millions of people, some are paying attention to us.
Even the very format of a Facebook page is emblematic of our generation's narcissism. Many of our pages are filled with hundreds of photos of ourselves, all waiting to be "liked" by others. When we peer at our own Facebook pages, we are not unlike Narcissus staring at his own reflection, so entranced by ourselves that we cannot look away.
As Americans, our primary media consists of either corporations trying to sell us products or politicians trying to win our votes. Both parties rely on flattery in order to convince us, and thus we are used to being flattered. We are a society built around the cult of the individual, therefore we bear no apprehensions over owning a Facebook page that exists in order to advertise ourselves.
What does it say about our generation that we are willing to prostitute ourselves in such a manner? What sort of system requires friends to visit individual shrines in order to interact with them? Such a paradigm does not compose a healthy pursuit of genuine human interaction. How often do we sit at a bus stop or our desks in class and, instead of speaking with the people around us, check our notifications and post new statuses? This sort of behavior is proof that Facebook inherently encourages the limitation of social interaction, not the expansion of it.
"Social" media is thus a paradoxical term. Media itself has become a personal pursuit, not a social one. In the early days of radio and television, families and friends would huddle around such devices, and they would provide a catalyst for conversation. Now we sit peering into a small screen with headphones in our ears, ignoring those around us. Is to be permanently in isolation a healthy status quo? Furthermore, is it even a human one?
Tools such as Facebook can be put to noble ends if used in moderation. However, the website's addictive qualities are undeniable, and as Internet users, we should never confuse our tools for ends in and of themselves.
While Facebook can be used to invite people to events and connect with lost friends, its uses should stop there. When pursuing true human interaction, the healthy approach exists in the physical realm.
When the real world becomes a sacrificial lamb at the foot of our personal shrines, we flirt with ghosts and forget those around us.
Luke Bailey is a history junior at UF. His column appears on Wednesdays.
