Tag: facebook suspension

It’s been 11 days since my Facebook account was suspended. Where are things at?

The appeal, predictably, didn’t yield any results. No response, no e-mail, no change, nothing. I have no other “official” appeal routes, as I cannot access the platform at all. So I wrote up my appeal in a blog post.

What you can do to help: share my story or my appeal, give visibility to my situation – including on Facebook where I have become inexistant. If you know people who might know people, please ask. It seems pretty clear that unless a case manages to gather the attention of the right people (including, it seems, through the media), not much will happen. Going public helps. A huge thanks to those of you who have already shared my posts or updates, reached out to your networks, etc. Facebook is where I had the most reach, and without it, I am struggling to raise awareness on my situation. The reach I have in normal times is, of course, abnormal. A working system should not depend on people having a platform or connections to work right and be fair.

False Positives

My old friend Kevin Marks pointed me to this extremely interesting article: Cost of False Positives (Kellan Elliott-McCrea). Two take-aways:

• with scale, false positives in identifying abuse of a social site create a huge problem to deal with, even when the detection methods are “very good”; Kellan runs through some numbers, and it’s way beyond what I could have imagined (and the article was written nearly 15 years ago)
• early adopters (like me!) are outliers in the data and are at higher risk of “looking funny” to abuse detection algorithms; indeed, we are not “normal users”; I share huge quantities of links; my account goes back nearly two decades so there are lots of publications to sift through and which might be flagged; I am at times extremely active in (human) ways which could seem “unhuman”: amount and type of content, speed, etc.

Automation

Just now, I was reading this article from Ars Technica: Social Media Probably Can’t Be Fixed. (It’s an open tab in my browser, not too sure how it go there.) It feels like it.

Even at my social “scale”, when I think about the main community I run (diabetic cats, 7k members), we run into scale issues where it becomes more and more difficult to treat everybody fairly and in a human way. And when I think of how to improve things from a management perspective (because volunteer ressources are limited, always will be) I find myself thinking in terms of automation, how to use AI to support the team doing content moderation or to improve the “member journey” in the community. Less personal, less human.

With automation, you get scale (and with scale you end up needing automation), but with that, you lose personal connection and at some point it comes crumbling down.

Life Without Facebook

How have I been coping with being un-facebooked? Well, beyond the shock and the hurt and the grief and the anger and the injustice of it all, and setting aside the extra “admin work” this is adding to my plate, being forced off Facebook has done two things for me:

• regroup on my blog and other platforms, and in the process, get to experience different “connection spaces” than the main one I had on Facebook
• imagine a life without/after Facebook: less connection maybe, a slower pace – I am getting to measure how “caught up” I get in the platform and how good it is at keeping me there.

Before we go all “silver linings”: this sucks. I didn’t need this. It has been extremely distressing and has had a negative impact on my health, in particular my recovery from post-concussion syndrome after my accident. I feel more disconnected and isolated, because I have lost my access to the people I was in touch with on a daily basis (some of them “online-only” friends, many of them not). Life on Facebook continues without me. I’m not being flooded with mails and messages of people asking me what’s going on or how I’m doing. It’s mainly silence.

Losing my content is also dreadful. I’ve spent some time this week-end going through my various archives from various platforms and tools over the years, organising them somewhat, checking they actually work, and exporting recent archives of the places I’m still at. My last proper facebook export is nearly 10 years old. I mentioned before, I think, that I tried to do an export in June, but gave up because it required me to manually download 52 files weighing 2Gb each, at a snail’s pace, and which made my network drop. The “export to Google Drive” didn’t work. So, my stuff on Facebook is a 104Gb export. Outliers in the data, anybody?

Why I’m Fighting

I made the choice to try and fight this, instead of sitting back and saying “oh well, that’s that”. I made the choice to fight because it is meaningful to me in different ways:

• I care about my content locked up in the platform and would like to get it back.
• I run a busy support group there, thankfully with a wonderful team who is holding the fort, despite being worn out by six months of my post-accident absence and a couple more years of me struggling to make time for the community amidst the other stuff going on in my life; I also have two decades worth of connections on the platform, which I do not want to just “cut off” like that – be it regarding the community or my network, real relationships are at stake, and if the future is away from Facebook, I want to be able to manage the transition and not be thrown off the plane in mid-air.
• I am not alone: this is not just about me, but about a systemic, structural issue that has real impact on thousands of people’s lives; I’m lucky I don’t have a business that depends on my facebook presence anymore, but it could have been the case. Others aren’t that lucky. We are innocent casualties in the war against the bad actors of online social spaces, and deserve some kind of justice.
• Meta, as a company, and Facebook, as a platform, want to play an important role in shaping our world. They want to be an indispensable tool for businesses, and also for normal people, without which they have no value for businesses. To me, it is unethical to have such ambition regarding their role in society and not provide even a semblance of support to those who make it possible – even if, as the saying goes, they “are the product”, because they do not pay. In my small modest way, taking a stand against enshittification.

This means that for the last 11 days, in addition to dealing with the impact of this suspension, I have been looking up articles, searching for solutions, writing blog posts, posting on a bunch of social media platforms I am normally dormant on, DMing friends and vague contacts, drawing up an action plan in my head, and putting my poor injured brain through the ringer to try to figure out what to do, where to start, what to prioritise, who to contact or speak to, in hopes of getting this suspension reversed. All that, knowing that chances are extremely slim and that it is probably useless.

Reconnecting Elsewhere

So, now that you’ve read all that, and without losing sight of it, what has been interesting? Clearly, reconnecting with my blog and feeling motivated to invest in ways of connecting to others and building community where I am not ceding control of everything to the Borg. (No, not that Borg – the new one.) That was already underway, but it has now been prioritised.

It has also made me aware of how facebook encourages a certain type of writing/publication and a certain type of discussion. Not so much in terms of content, but in terms of form. And there is value in doing it differently. I actually wrote some e-mails to people, since my suspension. I shared shorter snippets of stuff (passing thoughts, comments on links I found, ideas, daily anecdotes) because on LinkedIn, Bluesky, Twitter and Mastodon, for example, there are character limits. On my blog there are none, so I have had a chance to ramble along more. I have rediscovered people who left the Facebook boat already and with whom I had lost touch, because I poured almost all my sharing and connecting energy into Facebook.

I also published a couple of videos on Youtube, and plan to do more.

Shared Content

One thing I have become acutely aware of is that even when platforms allow you to export your content, one’s content in a social space is not just one’s publications. It is also comments, participation in the shared content that is a conversation, or a community. All the comments I ever made on Facebook have gone with my suspension. There are conversation threads with holes in them now. All the comments and conversations that took place because I published something, or because I commented and somebody answered – gone. Once people interact with your content, build upon it, it is not 100% yours anymore.

This has been an ongoing preoccupation of mine in shared social spaces. I remember, many many years ago, when blogs were young, a blogger I was actively following deleted their blog one day. And with it, all the comments I had taken the trouble to leave on their posts. “Leaving a comment” does not adequately reflect it, actually. It makes it feel like a small gesture done for the benefit of the other, but it’s not that. A comment can have as much value as a blog post. What makes it a comment is that it is a response, not that it is small or insignificant. It can be something valuable given to the community, and it should not be the right of another person to unilaterally destroy it.

I do not remember who the blogger was. It happened more than once.

Some years back, a few of my contacts on Facebook started a kind of automatic removal of their posts after a certain amount of time had gone by, taking my shares and comments with them. I stopped sharing and commenting on those posts.

I know, the lesson is: if you don’t want something you write to disappear, write it on your blog. But context matters.

Content and Community

This “it’s my content, I’m allowed to delete it” mindset is also an issue in Facebook groups. In the diabetic cat group, it thankfully didn’t happen very often, but when it did, it was infuriating. Somebody would post with an issue. People would expend time and energy in providing good answers and support. Then the person would delete their post, and all the answers with it. The whole point of a support group is that what is said to one person may also help another, who is reading. As a community, we also get to know our members and connect to them, and in that respect, their history in the group is important. Being able to refer back to that history is what allows a support community to function at a certain scale. Facebook does not allow group admins to prevent members from deleting posts and comments – something the platform I’m looking at for the future, Discourse, allows. It’s not all black and white of course, if you post something stupid and want to remove it an instant later, you can. But you can’t take down whole comment threads because you don’t like your post anymore. Participating in a community comes with a certain amount of responsibility towards other members of that community.

On the web side: Cool URIs don’t change. And also: cool content doesn’t disappear.

So, back to Facebook, what has been lost – for me, but also for others – is not just my posts and the pages of my cats, but it’s also a shared history, through discussions in comment threads and reposts on other people’s walls.

If we were connected on Facebook, and you would like to stay in touch, think about subscribing to this blog, and find me on the socials of your choice: Bluesky, Mastodon, Threads or LinkedIn. I’m still on the bird site but not very active there. I want to do more videos on Youtube, so it might be a good move to subscribe to my channel. I haven’t managed to recover my Tiktok account, so that’s that for the time being. I also have Instagram and Flickr (dormant, maybe it needs waking up), and I’ve created a little WhatsApp community – mainly francophone – where you can get announcements when I publish something here and a little chat-space with others and me, a kind of weird version of my Facebook wall off Facebook (ask me to join).

Of course, I always like it when people leave comments. I promise not to delete my blog.