Putting On a Face

The last several months have been busy at the Facebook.com office. Having undergone a major facelift, the website now features photo album tools, friend connection descriptions, and the ever-exciting Pulse. Swell as all of these developments are, I have a proposal for Mr. Zuckerberg.

Mark, something is missing from your website. Something big. Every time I log onto Facebook (read: 30-some times a day) and scroll through my own profile, I feel as though an enormous piece of me is absent. Sure, listed are my interests, my favorite music and movies, and my favorite quote, but an entire element of my personality is left out: my aversions. We need a “grievances” section on our Facebook profiles.

I realize that such a suggestion may seem a little negative, but counter to what some people (read: my therapist) may want us to believe, negativity constitutes a healthy chunk of a person’s character. I would not be who I am today were it not for my list of disdains.

Take clichés, for instance. I hate them passionately. And trans fats—they repulse me. Heart-to-heart conversations, romanticism, and the notion that honesty is always the best policy, I also abhor. But since Facebook leaves me no space to air my distastes in one fell swoop, the viewer of my profile has no way of knowing that I am an insincere, cold-hearted, organic food-eating snob with commitment issues. Facebook leaves me feeling as though I’m lying to the world, or at least to the people who are stalking my Facebook profile.

By ignoring such a huge piece of my makeup, Facebook is effectively repressing me. I am sure that I am not alone in my alienation.

Besides, the prevalence of the positive on Facebook.com is getting old. I don’t care that Suzy Smith’s primary interest is “chilling with all her favorite girls,” that her favorite book is “Chicken Soup for the Girlfriend’s Soul” (yes, that is a real title), or that her favorite quote is “everything happens for a reason.” I’d rather read that she has a hatred of mullets or that she gags at the sight of fake-designer bags. At least, I’d like her better.

Unfortunately, Facebook’s orgy of positivity highlights a worrisome trend of optimism globally. We have become consumed by what is good in the world, and what makes us happy, thereby losing sight of what really drives society—antipathy.

Change must happen now before it’s too late, and it must start in the places that matter to us most. No, it will not begin in the classroom, and certainly not in church. Change must begin on Facebook.com.

Mr. Zuckerberg, it’s your move.



Lucy M. Caldwell ’09, a Crimson editorial editor, lives in Wigglesworth Hall.