Tag: Facebook

A trying Facebook day: Have we taken leave of our senses?

Has the world always been, largely, certifiably mad (as in insane) or is it just that Facebook has made us look that way?

I actually posted a nice note to my FB friends yesterday about how amazing a tool it is, by and large, to keep in touch with friends old and new.

Then, as if to smite me, we had a really bad crash in Redmond – and a few dozen of the folks who passed by and took photos of the pretty dramatic if not horrific (OK, the victims were gone by then) scene shared the photos, in public, within minutes, on our Facebook page – long before any family members were notified, much less identified to the public.

What were they thinking? Or not thinking?

I posted a fervent plea of “please don’t do this,” which at least sighting had over 500 likes. But while that’s something that can be appreciated and humbling, I’m not “like”-fishing – I’d rather not have something to prompt such a finger-wagging post, “liked” or not!

When folks have said over the years that our Website’s comments would be more civil if we required real names, not screen names, I automatically reply: “Have you seen what people post to Facebook with their real names attached?”

Then, in a 1-2 punch of “fun,” I post a rewrite of a news release on a Crook County crash of an ATV and SUV on a forest road that thankfully did not lead to any deaths, but involved two juveniles, so the sheriff’s office did not identify them, only the SUV driver.

Well, within an hour or less, that posting turned into what I call “trial by Facebook,” led by one of the ATV riders who made some serious allegations about the driver — who, deputies said, was not cited. (There were some, well, holes in the news release, which I have inquired in hopes of filling, but it seemed to be enough to get it out there.)

So again, I had to go in — if only over my extreme fear of litigation and related headaches — and remove dozens of back and forth comments over who what when where why that went way beyond what the sheriff’s office released.

Some consultants have told me/us, “don’t worry – it’s only Facebook.” Heck, there was a ruling last week that again absolved folks who oversee Facebook pages of some legal risk based on what folks say on them.

But we have Terms of Service for the comments on our Website – ones I get to make sometimes-tough judgment calls on 100s of times a week – and I really do try to hold to the same TOS on our Facebook page, when I can, however I can.

It feels at times like a lost, hopeless cause – that today, with everyone having the ability to say whatever they want, wherever they want, that “censorship gene” of civility, sensitivity, decorum, taste and all those old fuddy-duddy old-fashioned words that most of us used to abide by has just gone out the flippin’ window entirely – young or old, rich or poor, male or female, we just let it all fly, and if the folks reading it don’t like it, that’s their own tough luck!

It’s not just about fear of lawsuits – although there’s that. It’s a gnawing feeling that for the vast majority of us, we either engage in reckless word-tossing without fear or thought of consequences, or we silently endorse it by not objecting to it.

I’ve joked, sort of, before about wanting to create a “Nicebook,” where folks basically are told: Be civil, or be gone. Why this is necessary becomes more evident with each skirmish I find myself in, as I try to refereee the un-refereeable.

Am I making too much of this? Perhaps. But the old adage “think before you speak” seems to be going the way of the buggy whip and hoop skirt. And you don’t have to be a kumbaya Pollyanna to lament it, and fear where it’s all going to take us.

(Postscript: I am unhiding the photos of the crash on Facebook and using them on the story now, hours later, because police have released details and plan to use one of their own. Also, all the photos shared I’ve seen were after the car’s occupants were removed.

Like this one – by Edna Ibarra – note the officer in vest, the paint markings by the wheels; clearly some time had passed.)

Hwy 97 crash Edna Ibarra web 67

Before Facebook, There Was the Phone Book

OK, I know, comparing Facebook to the ol’ phone book is a little odd, but I’ll try.

First, a funny image – that of Steve Martin in The Jerk, running through the neighborhood, shouting, ‘The new phone books are here!”

Well, I wasn’t THAT over the moon about them, but let me tell you, few things were a reporter’s best friend as much as those always-growing (til now) collections of pulp with shiny covers. We learned to keep the old ones, because sometimes, people paid the EXTRA fee to get themselves unlisted (see some parallels there to the world of headaches of ‘opting out’ of having your name all over the Web?)

I even wrote stories, honestly, where I tracked the growth of a community – this one – by comparing the previous year’s phone book pages to the new one’s. Twenty more pages, etc. Or look for new Yellow Pages categories, like ‘Internet Service Providers.’ Sometimes they’d throw me off by changing the font size or columns, but tallying the pages was just another simple way to see how fast we are – whoops, make that – were  – growing.

I bring this up in a not-totally-random fashion. Last week, trying to help someone with a potential news story, I used Google to find a name, then someone local related to them. Twice, I thought I hit pay dirt – turning to the phone book, they were listed!

But alas, both were disconnected.

Why? Odds are, because they now live their lives on cell phones, so who needs an old ‘land line’ phone to pay for? The terms ‘boat anchor’ (or even ‘buggy whip’) come to mind.

I do understand. We switched to the cheaper cable-modem version of a land line, but I just can’t quite bring myself to cut the cord, one that’s fed me like an umbilical cord so much news over the years.

But you watch – phone books will start to shrink, unless there’s some societal revolution that tells people they want their cell number to be found in one, communal place, rather than catch as catch can in Internet phone number search sites.

This, I highly doubt will happen.

So is the rise of the cell phone a triumph of privacy, in a way? Spam and junk calls still find their way to them – usually by ‘robo-calls,’ where an automated dialer hits EVERY number. (I have to explain that to folks who call about a scam and wonder, ‘How did they get my number?’ They didn’t – they call EVERY number, in a row.)

But in a way, the future dimunition, even possible demise of the lowly phone book as a place everyone turned to as a place to find your and just about everyone’s name, address and phone number is sad, and perhaps another piece of the loss of community – as we all go our separate ways, for better and/or worse.

And that’s a shame. Not just for reporters, but for those young rascals who used to flip through it, eyes closed, randomly point at a number to call and say, ‘Pardon me, but do you have Prince Albert in a can?” (Rimshot.)

It’s not the kind of societal change many will have heartburn over (unless you work for what used to be THE Phone Co.) But it’s sad, nonetheless. To me, anyway.

I mean, not everyone in the phone book was your ‘friend,’ Facebook style. But somehow, connecting only to ‘friends’ seems a bit … insular. (Especially when people ‘friend’ you on Facebook and you have NO clue who they are, then you are stuck on that dilemma of accepting, rejecting or ignoring.)

(Another phone book plus – no profile photo required. Leaves more to the imagination, which is something we need to cultivate in these days of amazing movie special effects that can outshine our wildest dreams. Besides, if you have a ‘face for radio’ like yours truly, who needs everyone knowing what you look like?;-)

I remember reading of a reporter who used to randomly point at names in the phone book, call them and turn their lives into wonderful features. I know that’s possible, because everyone has at least one story to tell – the story of their lives, which can be as fascinating as any novel or movie.

Yes, you can probably do the same thing online. But it’s not the same – and these days, I daresay, the percentage who would agree to share some intimate details with a stranger over the phone are probably dropping even faster than those old-fogey landline phones.

No, now we share more such details of our lives than ever before – the crises, the joys, the random day-to-day thoughts (such as this!) with people who are our online “friends.” More open, in a way, than ever before, but more closed as well.

Such is the paradox of modern life, I suppose.