A month ago my Facebook profile was hacked. First, a message popped up on my business page, asserting that there was an issue with copyright infringement and that the page would be immediately suspended. As a writer, editor and coach, breaking copyright laws would put a swift end to my credibility, and I therefore make sure that all written content on the page is original or properly attributed. Copyright infringement? Highly unlikely.
Within a few hours, my personal profile was also suspended. Ostensibly, this was because my “linked Instagram account doesn’t follow our rules”, but as I don’t have an Instagram account, this was also bogus.
Regardless, I was now denied access to the entire Facebook site, including client contacts and 15 years of personal communications.
But in looking for urgent help from the platform, I stumbled into a void. Was there a help desk I could contact? No. An email address for a support team? Also no. Anyone to whom I could explain the situation and that I needed swift assistance to have this suspension lifted? Silence. Any “support” for suspected hacking was either not applicable or not workable and there was no one to call or email.
After following all obvious avenues – trawling through lists of FAQs, unsuccessfully following suggestions such as claiming a forgotten password and searching the internet for solutions – I came upon a YouTube video that addressed Facebook hacking issues. The best course of action, this US cyber expert suggested, was to immediately contact the attorney general of my state and apply political pressure to Facebook to provide appropriate assistance.
While this is not useful to me in Australia, it turned out that Facebook has form with leaving compromised subscribers in the lurch. More to the point, the platform appears to have no intention to provide appropriate support unless perhaps if politically pressured to do so.
Trouble is, time is of the essence: if action is not taken within 30 days, the user account is permanently deleted and all content, personal and professional, is lost for good.
Life without technology is inconceivable these days, but logging on to the internet inevitably triggers a wave of resentment in me. Advertising is everywhere and support is limited to those who are buying.
Where once ads were confined mainly to billboards, newspapers and magazines (that one could choose not to buy), the internet age has provided advertisers with additional unfettered access to anyone using a communication device.
We are confronted with a constant barrage of unwanted marketing pushed by algorithms, cookies and “sponsors”. Whether it’s banking, furniture, rightwing news or a myriad of cheap and pointless items made in China, there seems no end to the sales pitches that we are made to endure in the interests of corporate profits.
And some of the biggest advertising profits are made by social media platforms.
In their early days, these platforms were a welcome means to keep in touch with people across the globe. Connecting individuals was the very point of social media, and the world’s woes seemed a little less daunting with friends only a screen away at all times.
But that was then. Having morphed into behemoth communication networks used by billions, most social media are now so driven by advertising that personal connections have become a minor sidebar reserved for those committed to extensive scrolling.
So how did this happen? When did we opt in to an endless feed of ads instead of chats with friends? Do we not have a right to be left in peace and not hounded by the relentless push to buy goods or services? The right to choose to seek out information at our own pace, if and when we want it?
Apparently not. It seems that any “rights” are reserved for those who can pay.
Despite the billions of dollars in profit that Facebook (and other social media platforms) now earn from ads and access to potential buyers, don’t expect any support as an average punter who encounters problems on this site, as I’ve experienced first-hand. Need help? You’re on your own.
For someone with a healthy concern about the ethics and responsibilities of unregulated free market capitalism, this recent experience has done nothing to appease me.
My 30 days of suspension are up and my account remains blocked. With no access to Facebook’s administrators, who by any ethical standards could and should support their users, I am part of a faceless ocean of millions with no worth beyond that of an advertising market. Individual fates or lost business don’t matter a jot.