Painting Mark Zuckerberg's Fence
Ooh, I am mad at me. Though I promised myself I’d stopped, and wouldn't get caught in it again, I dipped my toe in the water and got dragged into a rip tide. And all, spectacularly, without even being anywhere close to the ocean.
Mr Tweddle has this phrase, which is, “painting Mark Zuckerberg's fence.” It means when you’ve found yourself doing voluntary work for a billionaire - like commenting on social media. Because every time you engage on something on social media - whether it be good or bad - it helps to make money for the billionaire who is selling advertising on his site.
Unsurprisingly, that billionaire doesn’t care whether you’re commenting to wish a beloved friend a happy birthday or to tell a complete stranger they’re an asshole. They make money either way, hence painting Mark Zuckerberg’s fence.
I like the visual of that. It makes it easier for me to remember. It’s one of those weird old clever Mother Naturey things that, when something is laid out as an image, it tells your brain that the picture is not only worth remembering but it’s probably also true. I'm no anthropologist (I know, hold back your surprise), but I reckon it's likely down to some survival of the species type thing - we see the truth with our own eyes and in doing so flourish as a species. And that makes total sense, until the creation of social media.
You see, I could make some kind of graphic with a picture of me on one side, and a picture of the Pope on the other. On the side with the Pope, I could put something like, “Same old pontiff. Same old story.” Then on the picture of me, I could list reasons why I should be Pope, such as, “She has that popely vibe,” or “She looks better in pointy hats,” or I could go for the knuckle and say, “Lynn is a Protestant woman. After generations of Catholic men, isn’t it time for a popely change?”
And even though that image would be blatantly and utterly ridiculous, if that was posted on social media and pushed in front of enough sets of eyes, I can guarantee there would be people who would agree with it. Because it doesn’t matter that something is bullshit when it’s laid out in a visually pleasing way. And because it's there, right in front of our eyes, we are biologically programmed to look for the truth in it.
And before long, my wee Pope experiment would have created a full-blown argument, and Mark Zuckerberg would not only be getting his fence painted, but one of his many houses too.
So I try to stay away from social media, or at least to only use it sparingly. I feel it should come with a health warning, and that I (rightly, as it turns out) can’t be trusted - not because I'm planning on campaigning as Pope any time soon, but because I sometimes forget to shut my big gob.
I would probably get rid of it altogether, except I have friends and family back in the old country, and I love to check in with them and see what they’ve been up to. So I have Facebook on my phone, and when I’m sitting in a doctor’s office, or waiting for the kettle to boil, or trying to avoid a deadline, I can open up the app and see pictures of those I love and miss and haven’t seen in person for ages, popping up on the screen.
It's a perfect compromise, or at least it should be, as long as I keep my mouth shut.
So you may not have heard about this (I am kidding), but there’s an election about to happen here in California. And obviously, there’s nothing quite like vying political candidates to create enough engagement to paint a whole city of houses and to buy Mark Zuckerberg another new luxury yacht.
One of the Californian candidates has spent somewhere in the region of $200 million on his campaign, and it’s impossible not to notice. Every time I look at a screen or open the mailbox, there he is with his shirt sleeves rolled up (Obama style) telling us he’s ready to get to work. Or smiling with some bloke in a hard hat showing that ‘he’s just like us.’
I don’t have a great deal of faith in politicians at the moment, but I do feel it’s irresponsible to not vote, and I might have thought of voting for this guy if he wasn't so constantly in my face all the time. It’s overkill.
And then his campaign started posting out these memes about the other guy he sees as his main opponent (even though they’re both in the same political party, by the way) that are basically more sophisticated versions of ‘Don’t you think Lynn should be Pope?” and he made my decision for me.
And I pretty much got on with my life, ignoring the constant barrage of ‘what a good guy-ness’ about him through my letterbox, and texted to me on my phone, and presented on all shapes and sizes of screens, in the same way I ignore these wee annoying mosquitoes that nip at your ankles every Summer. Yes, they’re really bloody irritating, but you don’t let them ruin your whole existence.
But then the other night, I came home from work, and life is good but busy. And I sat on the sofa and took out my phone, and happened to open Facebook to see what was happening with those I love back in the old country …and you can guess the rest.
An L.A. friend of mine had posted up one of the $200 million guy’s memes. And I was tired and distracted and stupidly made a comment. And of course, I hurt her feelings. And I felt shit about it, because she has stuff going on in her life, just as I have stuff going on in mine. And to be honest, it’s none of my business who she votes for (orange blob excepted) and none of my business what she posts.
And it doesn’t matter whether I agree with her or not.
Like I’m not a great fan of the music of Chris De Burgh. But if I walk past a room and someone is playing a song by Chris De Burgh, I am capable of keeping my mouth shut. I am capable of letting others have a different opinion from me and am, pretty much, a live-and-let-live person.
Also, I just don’t like unnecessarily hurting other people’s feelings. I find it distracting. Unsettling. And I worry about living in a world where it’s so easy to upset someone with so little effort.
I’m not going to lie. I find social media more and more repugnant. Friendships get tested, relationships get broken, perspectives get twisted, and all the time the guy in the background gets richer and richer and richer. And so right now I am mad at me, for being so totally gullible.
So I apologized. And deleted Facebook from my phone. I figure that way I won’t find it so easy to dip my toe in. Because the thing about riptides is that they don’t pull swimmers under the water; they just pull them further and further away from the shore.
Anyhoos, I don’t know if you know this, but there’s an election coming up in California. And after that, there will be an election coming up in some other part of the world. And then there will be one somewhere else. And we will all be hoping that whatever person we vote for will be able to bring the solutions we believe are really important.
Now whether they do or not is never guaranteed, as politicians seem to exist within some subculture of humanity, so much so that anthropologists should give them their own category.
But what is absolutely guaranteed though, in this world of continual elections, is that there’s money to be made, and luxury yachts to be purchased, and private planes to be upgraded.
And all of this bounty is funded by the outrage of people sitting in waiting rooms or lounging on living room sofas. Or the fear of those standing at train stations, or bus stops, or waiting in line at the car dealership. There’s the hopelessness of those scrolling for job opportunities or wondering how to pay next month’s bills. And the despair of those looking for something good in the news who find that nothing else has changed. And each one of us - just to distract ourselves - takes one little click on our phones and a whole world of loveliness opens up… for some needy Billionaire.
So, as I had to remind myself this week, when it comes to painting fences, unless you know someone who genuinely needs help with theirs, just get on with the business of painting your own.
Lynn
Xo
PS: Clicking on the wee heart emoji to say you like this post makes me happy. And I’ve no idea how if affects the feelings of Billionaires.
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