Social Networking

Perhaps a half-dozen or so years ago, I fiercely debated the growing social trend of allowing young children, most especially teens, to lock themselves in their bedrooms and re-create themselves on the internet as avatars of who they wish they were, while effectively avoiding learning how to be who they are. I argued that social networks isolate kids at a critical time in their lives, a time when they need to be dragged, kicking and screaming if necessary, into appropriate face-to-face social situations so they develop the skills they need to function within the family, as well as on the job and in social settings that are part of the adult life experience. I was booed, called old-fashioned, and sent to my (class)room.

I was vindicated in a gruesome way when one of our very large student body population went home from school, refused to join his family for dinner, locked himself in his bedroom, communicated with his on-line family/friends that he was going to kill himself, and pulled the trigger. After his real family finished dinner and Mom was cleaning up the kitchen, some of the boy's on-line "friends" appeared at the door and asked if their son was okay. No, he was dead, and it was not okay, perhaps even more so because his family in the downstairs dining room had no idea their son was this isolated, this depressed, this desperate to be accepted.

Even more shockingly, after his death was made public, many of the on-line friends had to admit that they really didn't know him very well, although they had been classmates since elementary school. It's so much easier to be friends with someone you don't have to know, as the three film-makers of a documentary, Catfish, discovered as they recorded Nev's on-line relationship with a woman whose entire life is a fantasy that she creates so she can function in her real world. This is a condition I call virtual agoraphobia wherein the victim becomes a prisoner of the fantasy life created to avoid living in a world that may not accept or appreciate the reality self.

The recently-released movie, The Social Network, is outstanding in many different ways, and its lead character, Mark, the creator of The Facebook, reminds me in many ways of the sudden, shocking death of a student who felt socially isolated from real humans, but bonded to his virtual family. The film's opening scenario shows a socially awkward college student who desperately wants to be one of "them," the guys who know the moves, who wear the clothes, who get the girls. It is almost as if he has paid a young woman to be seen with him so he can blend in and partake of the college experience. The male is brilliant beyond the bounds of human comprehension, but that is another isolate, not a crowd-pleaser. He has limited understanding of social discourse, social behavior, and social networking, and he is a geek to the nth degree who opens his mouth and offends everyone in range with his blunt pronouncements, behavior somewhat typical of Asberger's syndrome.

He has one friend, Eduardo, who accepts that Mark is what Mark is. Eduardo tries to be a friend, but Mark has never internalized the concept of friend, much less friendship. When "those guys," the Winkelvoss twins, contact Mark to help them with a project, he leaps on-board because "those guys" need him. Mark sees this as an opportunity to become one of them and escape himself, but his basic (Asberger?) nature does not allow him to follow through on the deal he made to create the twins' Harvard Connection network. Mark's mind takes him to a new level. He previously crashed the Harvard computer network with a game he developed for rating "hot or not" college females, and with that success sitting in the back of his mind, he leaps beyond the Winkelvoss twins' limited concept and develops what he calls The Facebook. Social networking is released upon a world that will never be the same as "friend me" becomes the new "call me."

The darker side of Mark comes into the light when he meets The Napster, Shawn Parker, the teenaged wonder-whiz who distributed copyrighted music through the internet to anyone who wanted it. To avoid losing the fortune this grand theft created, Parker declared bankruptcy that he cashed in for a free-wheeling lifestyle of social networking in the clubs. Because he is a relatively attractive man, and because women want what women want -- fashion, shoes, and boy candy on their arm -- and are willing to pay for it with sex in a bathroom stall, Parker seems to have it all. Mark wants what Shawn has. Because Mark has zero social skills, he brings Shawn into his world to be the guy Mark can never be. In the process, Mark cuts off Eduardo, the one person who believes in Mark, the man, and works to make his idea a success, while everyone else in Mark's life believes in what Mark can do for them.

The movie is Gordon Gecko for the Me generation: bright kids from wealthy families who live as if there is no tomorrow because someone else always picks up the tab for their lifestyle. It isn't about what you know, but about who you know and how you can use them to advance your own agenda. Because Mark is so totally socially inept, he comes across as ruthless, but I believe that is the Asberger's, not the man who has it. Of all the minutes in the film, there are only about 3 minutes when Mark truly connects with another person on a one-to-one level, openly and without artifice, in the conference room where one of his lawsuits is being deposed. The person is a young female lawyer who seems to "get" Mark in a way no one else understands, and it's a perfect, poignant moment hidden in the glaring superficiality of the rest of the movie characters and action.

The Social Network is a movie I recommend without hesitation or qualification, and I plan to see it again. It's an important film in a way that some films are, capturing a moment in time when man has the opportunity to do the right thing, but fails to make that choice. The indictment against the colleges is strong, with booze/drugs/sex parties the norm for a mere $60k in tuition. A completely bumbling Harvard President, who has no idea what is going on nor really cares, has been put out to pasture in a position that obviously requires no talent in any area of either administration or education. He will retire quietly to bask in the glory of yesteryear; meanwhile, his students are already living far into the 21st Century.

The casting is outstanding and the actors don't just nail their roles, but they also get the nuances of their characters. Justin Timberlake pays his dues with this role, as well as the challenging and demanding performance turned in by Jesse Eisenberg, who portrays Mark with a fierceness that is beyond merely believable. Eisenberg seems to understand Mark in a way that outsiders perhaps never will, and that is what comes across on the screen. The supporting cast creates the superficial social environment in which this phenomena explodes, using the wealth Mark creates to their own personal advantage, while Mark sits alone, waiting for the world to notice him as "that guy." Remember that this is just a movie, not an autobiography, but loosely based on Mark Zuckerburg's rise to billionaire status with Facebook.

Interesting note: Mark Zuckerburg recently donated a large sum to the California campaign to legalize marijuana possession and use. Still trying to be "that guy," I guess.