The likes that bind

I haven't yet seen "The Social Network," though I've heard and read many a rave review. Whether you love to hate (or just plain hate) Mark Zuckerberg, the creator of Facebook and apparent heartless egomaniac, you have to admit that his invention (or, his ripping off of a series of other people's inventions, depending on your point of view) has changed the way we socialize. Facebook has now reached the point of saturation in our culture where its merits and pitfalls are being debated in the vast public forum of the mainstream. About one in 14 people worldwide are on Facebook, exchanging information, posting pictures, liking each others' statuses and turning the word "friend" into a verb that will likely make its way into upcoming editions of the dictionary. Though some shudder and bemoan the loss of person-to-person contact, it's hard to argue with 500 million people who use it as a way (or another way) to keep in touch.

I'm one of them. This week I've felt powerful fondness for Facebook as a web that connects us rather than an impersonal algorithm that disrupts meaningful interaction. I don't know about you, but I like reading my friends' statuses. I like scrolling through the pre-game, during-game and post-game agonies of the sports fans; I like hearing about the meals people have cooked, their kids' latest adventures, their vacations, moods, workouts, gardens, pets and how glad they are when it's Friday. I dig reading recommended articles and watching favorite videos. I love the commonalities among friends from the same region who don't know each other, but write similar posts. For example, whenever it is over about 80 degrees in the Bay Area, everyone writes about it. It's charming. My sister's best friend from college has an uncanny knack for spotting celebrities. He posts every one of his encounters. It's cool--and has gotten to be hilarious. When would I ever talk to my sister's best friend from college, a guy I like a lot, but am never going to call? But reading about who he sat next to at a Manhattan restaurant is a bright spot in the day.

And that's the thing about Facebook. It's not a long, wonderful conversation with an old friend and never will be. It's a thousand conversations in passing, daily connections with people who we don't see daily. Just like cell phones have allowed us to bring our conversation partners with us wherever we are (again, for better or worse), Facebook allows us to stand around the proverbial water cooler with people who are miles away, who we'd never see or hear from otherwise. Do I need to know that my friend from elementary school closed down a bar on her 37th birthday, or that my former colleague finished four grad school assignments? Of course not. But I want to. This kind of information brings us together in ways that strengthen our connections, as daily interaction always does. It might not move mountains, but it adds up, pulls us closer, gives us a common frame of reference, a thread to follow through the complexity of daily life. When my friend attached to the US Embassy in Mauritania posts running commentary on the fashion choices of African First Ladies, I'm that much more connected to him and the world. When a friend in Abu Dhabi cheers on her Aussie rules football team (the Collingwood Magpies, dontcha know), I smile at her enthusiasm for the sport, even though I no longer see her every day. When my former students complain about homework or broadcast their latest likes, I understand them in ways I never did as their teacher.

Do I really know them any better? Probably not. That's another thing about Facebook critics are quick to point out. It's a very public forum. What you see is what people choose to present to the world. It may or may not be the real story. To which I say, who cares? Why is this different than any other casual interaction? The difference is the interaction itself, the privilege of being able to keep connected, in whatever way works.

When I was little, my mom would come in to my sisters' and my room and, as a bedtime ritual, list all of the people (mostly faraway relatives) who loved us. It was very sweet, a reminder of the ties that rooted us in our family and community. Today, Facebook does the same thing, albeit on a less intimate scale. It makes our bonds visible and updates them constantly. It shows us the web we have spun and sit in the middle of, the web of family and friends, colleagues, neighbors and eras of life.

What's there not to like?