The Split-Second Timing of Brand Trust

Two weeks ago, I talked about how brand trust can erode so quickly and cause so many issues. I intimated that advertising and branding have become decoupled — and advertising might even erode brand trust, leading to a lasting deficit.

Now I think that may be a little too simplistic. Brand trust is a holistic thing — the sum total of many moving parts. Taking advertising in isolation is misleading. Will one social media ad for a brand lead to broken trust? Probably not. But there may be a cumulative effect that we need to be aware of.

In looking at the Edelman Trust Barometer study closer, a very interesting picture emerges. Essentially, the study shows there is a trust crisis. Edelman calls it information bankruptcy.

The slide in trust is probably not surprising. It’s hard to be trusting when you’re afraid, and if there’s one thing the Edelman Barometer shows, it’s that we are globally fearful. Our collective hearts are in our mouths. And when this happens, we are hardwired to respond by lowering our trust and raising our defenses.

But our traditional sources for trusted information — government and media — have also abdicated their responsibilities to provide it. They have instead stoked our fears and leveraged our divides for their own gains. NGOs have suffered the same fate. So, if you can’t trust the news, your leaders or even your local charity, who can you trust?

Apparently, you can trust a corporation. Edelman shows that businesses are now the most trusted organizations in North America. Media, especially social media, is the least trusted institution. I find this profoundly troubling, but I’ll put that aside for a future post. For now, let’s just accept it at face value.

As I said in that previous column, we want to trust brands more than ever. But we don’t trust advertising. This creates a dilemma for the marketer.

This all brings to mind a study I was involved with a little over 10 years ago. Working with Simon Fraser University, we wanted to know how the brain responded to trusted brands. The initial results were fascinating — but unfortunately, we never got the chance to do the follow-up study we intended.

This was an ERP study (event-related potential), where we looked at how the brain responded when we showed brand images as a stimulus. ERP studies are useful to better understand the immediate response of the brain to something — the fast loop I talk so much about — before the slow loop has a chance to kick in and rationalize things.

We know now that what happens in this fast loop really sets the stage for what comes after. It essentially makes up the mind, and then the slow loop adds rational justification for what has already been decided.

What we found was interesting: The way we respond to our favorite brands is very similar to the way we respond to pictures of our favorite people. The first hint of this occurred in just 150 milliseconds, about one-sixth of a second. The next reinforcement was found at 400 milliseconds. In that time, less than half a second in total, our minds were made up. In fact, the mind was basically made up in about the same time it takes to blink an eye.  Everything that followed was just window dressing.

This is the power of trust. It takes a split second for our brains to recognize a situation where it can let its guard down. This sets in motion a chain of neurological events that primes the brain for cooperation and relationship-building. It primes the oxytocin pump and gets it flowing. And this all happens just that quickly.

On the other side, if a brand isn’t trusted, a very different chain of events occurs just as quickly. The brain starts arming itself for protection. Our amygdala starts gearing up. We become suspicious and anxious.

This platform of brand trust — or lack of it — is built up over time. It is part of our sense-making machinery. Our accumulating experience with the brand either adds to our trust or takes it away.

But we must also realize that if we have strong feelings about a brand, one way or the other, it then becomes a belief. And once this happens, the brain works hard to keep that belief in place. It becomes virtually impossible at that point to change minds. This is largely because of the split-second reactions our study uncovered.

This sets very high stakes for marketers today. More than ever, we want to trust brands. But we also search for evidence that this trust is warranted in a very different way. Brand building is the accumulation of experience over all touch points. Each of those touch points has its own trust profile. Personal experience and word of mouth from those we know is the highest. Advertising on social media is one of the lowest.

The marketer’s goal should be to leverage trust-building for the brand in the most effective way possible. Do it correctly, through the right channels, and you have built trust that’s triggered in an eye blink. Screw it up, and you may never get a second chance.

I’m a Fan of Friction

Here in North America, we are waging a war on friction. We use technology like a universal WD-40, spraying it on everything that rubs, squeaks or grinds. We want to move faster, more efficiently, rushing through our to-do list to get to whatever lies beyond it.

We are the culture of “one-click” ordering. We are the people that devour fast food. We relentlessly use apps to make our lives easier — which is our euphemistic way of saying that we want a life with less friction.

Pre-pandemic, I was definitely on board this bandwagon. I, like many of you, always thought friction was a bad thing. I relentlessly hunted efficiency.

This was especially true when I was still in the working world. I started every day with an impossibly long to-do list, and I was always looking for ways to help me work my way through it faster. I believed at the end of my to-do list was the secret of life.

But in the past 14 months, I’ve discovered that it’s friction that might be the secret of life.

There are bushels of newly budding life coaches telling us to be “mindful” and “live in the moment.” But we somehow believe those moments have to all be idyllic walks through a flower garden with those we love most, as the sun filters softly through the trees overhead.

Sometime “in the moment” is looking for sandpaper at Home Depot. Sometimes it’s dropping our coffee as we rush to catch the bus. And sometimes its realizing that you’re sitting next to someone you really don’t like on that five-hour flight to Boston.

All those things are “in the moment,” and maybe — just maybe — that’s what life is all about. Call it friction if you wish, but it’s all those little things we think are annoying until they’re gone.

Friction has some unique physical properties that we tend to overlook as we try to eliminate it. It is, according to one site, “resistance to motion of one object moving relative to another.” It forces us to slow down our motion, whatever direction that motion may be taking us in. And — according to the same site — scientists believe it “is the result of the electromagnetic attraction between charged particles in two touching surfaces.”

Ah hah, so friction is about attraction and our attempts to overcome that attraction! It is about us fighting our social instincts to bond with each other to keep moving to accomplish … what, exactly? Free up time to spend on Facebook? Spend more time playing a game on our phones? Will those things make us happier?

Here’s the other thing about friction. It generates heat. It warms things up. Here in North America, we call it friction. In Denmark, they call it “hygge.”

Denmark is a pretty happy place. In fact, last year it was the second happiest place on earth, according to the United Nations. And a lot of that can be attributed to what the Danish call “hygge,” which roughly translates as “cozy.”

The Danish live for coziness. And yes, the idyllic picture of hygge is spending time in front of the fire in a candlelit cabin, playing a board game with your closest friends. But hygge comes in many forms.

I personally believe that Denmark is an environment that leads to hygge because Denmark is a place that is not afraid of friction. Allow me to explain.

The ultimate way to avoid friction is to be alone. You can’t have “resistance to motion of one object moving relative to another” when there is no other object.

As we emerge from a pandemic that has necessitated removing the objects around us (people) and replacing them with more efficient, less friction-prone substitutes (technology) — whether it’s in our jobs, our daily routines, our shopping trips or our community obligations — we seem to be finding ways to continue to make the world a more efficient place for ourselves.

This is putting us at the center of an optimized universe and ruthlessly eliminating any points of resistance — a life designed by a Silicon Valley engineer. And, more and more often, we find ourselves alone at the center of that universe.

But that’s not how the Danes do it. They have created an environment that leads to bumping into each other. And hygge — with all its warm fuzziness — might just be a product of that environment.  I suspect that might not be by intention. It just worked out that way. But it does seem to work.

For example, Danes spend a lot of time riding the bus. Or riding a bike. Life in Copenhagen is full of bumping along in a meandering trip together to a destination somewhere in the future. The joy is found in the journey, as noted in this Medium post.

It seems to me that life in Denmark, or other perpetually happy countries like Finland, Switzerland, Iceland and Norway, has a lot to do with slowing down and actually embracing societal friction.

We just have to realize that we as a species evolved in an environment filled with friction. And evolution, in its blind wisdom, has made that friction a key part of how we find meaning and happiness. We find hygge when we slow down enough to notice it.

Facebook Friends Do Not Equal Real Friends

Last week, an acquaintance of mine posted on Facebook that he had just run his first 10 K. He also included a photo of the face of his Apple Watch showing his time.

Inevitably, snarkiness ensued in the comments section.

There were a few genuine messages of congratulations, but there was more virtual alpha headbutting along the lines of “that’s the best you could do?”

Finally, the original poster did a follow-up post saying (and I paraphrase liberally), “Hey, relax! I’m not looking for attaboys or coaching advice. I just wanted to let you know I ran 10 km, and I’m kinda proud of myself. It was important to me.”

This points out something we don’t often realize about our virtual social networks: They just don’t operate in the same way they do in the real world. And there are reasons why they don’t.

In the 1990s, British anthropologist Robin Dunbar was spending a lot of time hanging around monkeys. And he noticed something: They groom each other. A lot. In fact, they spend a huge chunk of their day grooming each other.

Why?

Intrigued, he started correlating brain size with social behavior. He found that primates in particular have some pretty impressive social coordination machinery locked up there in their noggins. Humans, for instance, seem to be able to juggle about 150 reasonably active social connections. This is now called Dunbar’s Number, which has become a pseudoscience trope — an intellectual tidbit we throw out to sound erudite.

Proof that we really don’t understand Dunbar’s original insight is to see what’s happened to his number, now updated for the social media age. For example, according to Brandwatch, the average number of Facebook friends is 338. That would be more than twice Dunbar’s Number. And so, predictably, there are those who say Dunbar’s Number is no longer valid. We can now handle much bigger friend networks thanks to social media.

But we can’t. And my example at the top of this post shows that.

Maintaining a friendship requires cognitive effort. There is a big difference between a Facebook “friend” and a true friend. True friends will pick lice out of your fur — or they would, if they were monkeys. Facebook Friends feel they’re entitled to belittle your 10K run. See the difference?

Let’s go back to Robin’s Dunbar’s original thesis. Dunbar actually mentioned many numbers (all are approximations):

— Five “intimate” friends. This is your support group — the people who know you best.

— 15 “sympathetic” friends whom you can confide in.

— 50 “close” friends. You may not see them all the time, but if you were having a milestone birthday party, they’d be on your guest list.

— Now we have the 150 “friends.” If you ran into them on the street, you’d probably suggest a cup of coffee (or, in my case, a beer) for a chance to catch up.

— The next circle out is 500 “acquaintances.” You probably know just the briefest of back stories about them — like how you know them.

—  Finally, we have 1,500 as our cognitive limit. On a good day, we may remember their name if we see them.

Here’s a quick and clever thought exercise to sort your network into one of these groups (this courtesy of my daughter Lauren — I give credit where credit is due). Imagine someone walks up to you and asks, “How are you doing?”

How you answer this question will depend on which group the questioner falls into. The biggest group of 1,500 probably won’t ask. They don’t care. The group of 500 acquaintances will get a standard “Fine” in response. There will be no follow-up. The 150 will get a little more — a few details of a big event or life development if relevant. The 50 “close friends” will get slightly more honesty. Perhaps you’ll be willing to guardedly open up some sensitive areas. The 15 “sympathetic friends” are a safe zone. You’ll feel like you can open up completely. And the five “intimate friends” don’t have to ask. They know how you’re doing.

I’ve talked before about strong ties and weak ties in our social networks. Strong ties are built through shared experiences and understanding. You really have to know someone to have a strong tie with them. They are the ties that bind the first two of Dunbar’s circles.

As we move to the third circle, the “close friends,” we’re moving into the transition zone between strong ties and weak ties. From there on, it’s all weak ties. If you need a job or a recommendation of a good plumber, you’d reach out. Otherwise, you have little in common.

The stronger the tie, the more effort it takes to maintain it. These are the cognitive limits that Dunbar was talking about. You have to remember all those back stories, those things they love and hate, what motivates them, what makes them sad. It takes time to learn all those things. And it takes a frequency of connection to keep up with them as they change. We are not static creatures — as has been shown especially in the last year.

This is the problem with social media. When we post something, we generally don’t post just for our intimate friends, or our sympathetic friends. We post it across our whole network, bound with both strong and weak ties. We have lost the common social understanding that keeps us sane in the real world.

For my 10K runner, those in their closest circles would have responded appropriately. But most of those who did comment, the ones who had no strong ties to the poster, didn’t know the 10K was a big deal.

Facebook does have some tools for limited posts to selected groups, but almost none of us use them or maintain them. We don’t have the time.

This is where Dunbar’s insight on our social capabilities breaks down when it comes to social media.  In the real world, multiple factors —  including physical proximity, shared circumstances and time spent with each other —  naturally keep our network sorted into the right categories.

But these factor don’t apply in social media. We broadcast out to all circles at once. And those circles, in turn, feel entitled by the false intimacy of social media to respond without the context needed to do so appropriately.

Our current circumstances are exacerbating this problem. In normal times, we might not be posting as much as we currently are on social media. But for many of us, Facebook might be all we’ve got. We just have to realize that if we’re depending on it for social affirmation, this virtual world doesn’t play by the same rules as the physical one.

Connected Technologies are Leaving Our Seniors Behind

One of my pandemic projects has been editing a video series of oral history interviews we did with local seniors in my community. Last week, I finished the first video in the series. The original plan, pre-pandemic, was to unveil the video as a special event at a local theater, with the participants attending. Obviously, given our current reality, we had to change our plans.

We, like the rest of the world, moved our event online. As I started working through the logistics of this, I quickly realized something: Our seniors are on the other side of a wide and rapidly growing chasm. Yes, our society is digitally connected in ways we never were before, but those connections are not designed for the elderly. In fact, if you were looking for something that seems to be deliberately designed to disadvantage a segment of our population, it would be hard to find a better example than Internet connection and the elderly.

I have to admit, for much of the past year, I have been pretty focused on what I have sacrificed because of the pandemic. But I am still a pretty connected person. I can Zoom and have a virtual visit with my friends. If I wonder how my daughters are doing, I can instantly text them. If I miss their faces, I can FaceTime them. 

I have taken on the projects I’ve been able to do thanks to the privilege of being wired into the virtual world.   I can even go on a virtual bike ride with my friends through the streets of London, courtesy of Zwift.

Yes, I have given up things, but I have also been able find digital substitutes for many of those things. I’m not going to say it’s been perfect, but it’s certainly been passable.

My stepdad, who is turning 86, has been able to do none of those things. He is in a long-term care home in Alberta, Canada. His only daily social connections consist of brief interactions with staff during mealtime and when they check his blood sugar levels and give him his medication. All the activities that used to give him a chance to socialize are gone. Imagine life for him, where his sum total of connection is probably less than 30 minutes a day. And, on most days, none of that connecting is done with the people he loves.

Up until last week, family couldn’t even visit him. He was locked down due to an outbreak at his home. For my dad, there were no virtual substitutes available. He is not wired in any way for digital connection. If anyone has paid the social price of this pandemic, it’s been my dad and people like the seniors I interviewed, for whom I was desperately trying to find a way for them just to watch a 13-minute video that they had starred in.

A recent study by mobile technology manufacturer Ericsson looked specifically at the relationship between technology and seniors during the pandemic. The study focused on what the company termed the “young-old” seniors, those aged 65-74. They didn’t deal with “middle-old” (aged 75-85) or “oldest-old” (86 plus) because — well, probably because Ericsson couldn’t find enough who were connected to act as a representative sample.

But they did find that even the “young old” were falling behind in their ability to stay connected thanks to COVID-19. These are people who have owned smartphones for at least a decade, many of whom had to use computers and technology in their jobs. Up until a year ago, they were closing the technology gap with younger generations. Then, last March, they started to fall behind.

They were still using the internet, but younger people were using it even more. And, as they got older, they were finding it increasingly daunting to adopt new platforms and technology. They didn’t have the same access to “family tech support” of children or grandchildren to help get them over the learning curve. They were sticking to the things they knew how to do as the rest of the world surged forward and started living their lives in a digital landscape.

But this was not the group that was part of my video project. My experience had been with the “middle old” and “oldest old.” Half fell into the “middle old” group and half fell into the “oldest old” group. Of the eight seniors I was dealing with, only two had emails. If the “young old” are being left behind by technology, these people were never in the race to begin with. As the world was forced to reset to an online reality, these people were never given the option. They were stranded in a world suddenly disconnected from everything they knew and loved.

Predictably, the Ericsson study proposes smartphones as the solution for many of the problems of the pandemic, giving seniors more connection, more confidence and more capabilities. If only they got connected, the study says, life will be better.

But that’s not a solution with legs. It won’t go the distance. And to understand why, we just have to look at the two age cohorts the study didn’t focus on, the “middle old” and the “oldest old.”

Perhaps the hardest hit have been the “oldest old,” who have sacrificed both physical and digital connection, as this Journals of Gerontologyarticle notes.   Four from my group lived in long-term care facilities. Many of these were locked down at some point due to local outbreaks within the facility. Suddenly, that family support they required to connect with their family and friends was no longer available. The technological tools  that we take for granted — which we were able to slot in to take the place of things we were losing — were unimaginable to them. They were literally sentenced to solitary confinement.

A recent study from Germany found that only 3% of those living in long-term care facilities used an internet-connected device. A lot of the time, cognitive declines, even when they’re mild, can make trying to use technology an exercise in frustration.

When my dad went into his long-term care home, my sister and I gave him one of our old phones so he could stay connected. We set everything up and did receive a few experimental texts from him. But soon, it just became too confusing and frustrating for him to use without our constant help. He played solitaire on it for a while, then it ended up in a drawer somewhere. We didn’t push the issue. It just wasn’t the right fit.

But it’s not just my dad who struggled with technology. Even if an aging population starts out as reasonably proficient users, it can be overwhelming to keep up with new hardware, new operating systems and new security requirements. I’m not even “young old” yet, and I’ve worked with technology all my life. I owned a digital marketing company, for heaven’s sake. And even for me, it sometimes seems like a full-time job staying on top of the constant stream of updates and new things to learn and troubleshoot. As connected technology leaps forward, it does not seem unduly concerned that it’s leaving the most vulnerable segment of our population behind.

COVID-19 has pushed us into a virtual world where connection is not just a luxury, but a condition of survival. We need to connect to live. That is especially true for our seniors, who have had all the connections they relied on taken from them. We can’t leave them behind. Connected technology can no longer ignore them.

This is one gap we need to build a bridge over.

The Timeline of Factfulness

After last Wednesday, when it seemed that our reality was splitting at the seams, I was surprised to see financial markets seemed to ignore what was happening in Washington. It racked up a 1% gain. I later learned that financial markets have a history of being rather oblivious to social upheaval.

Similarly, a newsletter I subscribe to about recent academic research was packed with recent discoveries. Not one of the 35 links in that day’s edition pointed to anything remotely relevant to what was happening at that time in Washington, D.C (or various other state capitals in the country). That was less surprising to me than the collective shrugging off of events by financial markets, but it still made an interesting contrast clear to me.

These two corners of the world are not tied to the happenings of today. Markets look forward and lay economic bets on what will be. And apparently it had bet that the events of January 6 wouldn’t have any lasting impact.

Scientific journals look backward and report on what has already happened in the world of academic research. Neither are very focused on today.

But there is another reason why these two corners of the world seemed unfazed by the news headlines of January 6th. Science and the Markets are two examples of things driven by facts and data. Yes, emotion certainly plays a part. Investors have long known that irrational exuberance or fear can drive artificial bubbles or crashes. And the choice of research paths to take is a human one, which means it’s inevitably driven by emotions.

But both these ecosystems try to systematically reduce the role of emotion as much as possible by relying on facts and data. And because facts and data do not reveal their stories immediately but rather over time in the form of trends, they have to take a longer view of the world.

Therefore, these things operate on different timelines from the news. Financial markets use what’s happening now – today – as just one of many inputs into a calculated bet that will be weeks or months in the future.

Science takes a longer view, using the challenges of today to set a research agenda that may be years away from realizing its pay-off.  Both finance and science use what’s happening right now as one input to determine what will be in the future, but neither focus exclusively on today.

In contrast, that’s exactly what the news has to do. And it hyperbolizes the now, stripping the ordinary from the extraordinary, separating it, picking it out, and concentrating it for our consumption

The fact is, both markets and science have to operate by Factfulness, to use the term coined by the late Hans Rosling, Swedish physician and well known TED speaker. To run like the rest of the world, over-focused on the amplified volatility of the here and now that fills our news feeds, would be to render them dysfunctional. They couldn’t operate. They would be in a constant state of anxiety.

Increasingly, the engines that drive our world  – such as science and financial markets – have to decouple themselves from the froth and frenzy of the immediate. They do so because the rest of the world is following a very different path – one where hyper-emotionality and polarized news outlets whip us back and forth like a rag-doll caught by a Doberman.

This decoupling has accelerated thanks to the role of technology in compressing the timelines of the worldview of most of us. We are instantly alerted to what’s happening now and are then ushered into a highly biased bubble from in which we look at the world. Our world view is not only formed by emotion, it is deliberately designed to manipulate those emotions.

Emotions are our instant response to the world. They run fully hot or cold, with nary a nuance of ration to modulate them. Also, because emotions are our natural early warning systems, we tend to be hyper-aware of them and are immediately drawn to anything that promises to push our emotional buttons. As such, they are a notoriously inaccurate lens from which to look at reality.  That is why efforts are made to minimize their impact in the worlds of science and finance.

We should hold other critical systems to the same standards. Take government, for instance. Now, more than ever, we need those that govern us to be clear eyed and dealing with facts. Unfortunately, as we saw last week, they’re running as fast as they can in the opposite direction.

Facebook Vs. Apple Vs. Your Privacy

As I was writing last week’s words about Mark Zuckerberg’s hubris-driven view of world domination, little did I know that the next chapter was literally being written. The very next day, a full-page ad from Facebook ran in The New York Times, The Washington Post and The Wall Street Journal attacking Apple for building privacy protection prompts into iOS 14.

It will come as a surprise to no one that I line up firmly on the side of Apple in this cat fight. I have always said we need to retain control over our personal data, choosing what’s shared and when. I also believe we need to have more control over the nature of the data being shared. iOS 14 is taking some much-needed steps in that direction.

Facebook is taking a stand that sadly underlines everything I wrote just last week — a disingenuous stand for a free-market environment — by unfurling the “Save small business” banner. Zuckerberg loves to stand up for “free” things — be it speech or markets — when it serves his purpose.

And the hidden agenda here is not really hidden at all. It’s not the small business around the corner Mark is worried about. It’s the 800-billion-dollar business that he owns 60% of the voting shares in.

The headline of the ad reads, “We’re standing up to Apple for small businesses everywhere.”

Ummm — yeah, right.

What you’re standing up for, Mark, is your revenue model, which depends on Facebook’s being free to hoover up as much personal data on you as possible, across as many platforms as possible.

The only thing that you care about when it comes to small businesses is that they spend as much with Facebook as possible. What you’re trying to defend is not “free” markets or “free” speech. What you’re defending is about the furthest thing imaginable away from  “free.”  It’s $70 billion plus in revenues and $18 and a half billion in profits. What you’re trying to protect is your number-five slot on the Forbes richest people in the world list, with your net worth of $100 billion.

Then, on the very next day, Facebook added insult to injury with a second ad, this time defending the “Free Internet,”  saying Apple “will change the internet as we know it” by forcing websites and blogs “to start charging you subscription fees.”

Good. The “internet as we know it” is a crap sandwich. “Free” has led us to exactly where we are now, with democracy hanging on by a thread, with true journalism in the last paroxysms of its battle for survival, and with anyone with half a brain feeling like they’re swimming in a sea of stupidity.

Bravo to Apple for pushing us away from the toxicity of “free” that comes with our enthralled reverence for “free” things to prop up a rapidly disintegrating information marketplace. If we accept a free model for our access to information, we must also accept advertising that will become increasingly intrusive, with even less regard for our personal privacy. We must accept all the things that come with “free”: the things that have proven to be so detrimental to our ability to function as a caring and compassionate democratic society over the past decade.

In doing the research for this column, I ran into an op-ed piece that ran last year in The New York Times. In it, Facebook co-founder Chris Hughes lays out the case for antitrust regulators dismantling Facebook’s dominance in social media.

This is a guy who was one of Zuckerberg’s best friends in college, who shared in the thrill of starting Facebook, and whose name is on the patent for Facebook’s News Feed algorithm. It’s a major move when a guy like that, knowing what he knows, says, “The most problematic aspect of Facebook’s power is Mark’s unilateral control over speech. There is no precedent for his ability to monitor, organize and even censor the conversations of two billion people.”

Hughes admits that the drive to break up Facebook won’t be easy. In the end, it may not even be successful. But it has to be attempted.

Too much power sits in the Zuckerberg’s hands. An attempt has to be made to break down the walls behind which our private data is being manipulated. We cannot trust Facebook — or Mark Zuckerberg — to do the right thing with the data. It would be so much easier if we could, but it has been proven again and again and again that our trust is misplaced.

The very fact that those calling the shots at Facebook believe you’ll fall for yet another public appeal wrapped in some altruistic bullshit appeal about protecting “free” that’s as substantial as Saran Wrap should be taken as an insult. It should make you mad as hell.

And it should put Apple’s stand to protect your privacy in the right perspective: a long overdue attempt to stop the runaway train that is social media.

Looking At The World Through Zuckerberg-Colored Glasses

Mark Zuckerberg has managed to do something almost no one else has been able to do. He has actually been able to find one small patch of common ground between the far right and the far left in American politics. It seems everybody hates Facebook, even if it’s for different reasons.

The right hates the fact that they’re not given free rein to say whatever they want without Facebook tagging their posts as misinformation. The left worries about the erosion of privacy. And antitrust legislators feel Facebook is just too powerful and dominant in the social media market. Mark Zuckerberg has few friends in Washington — on either side of the aisle.

The common denominator here is control. Facebook has too much of it, and no one likes that. The question on the top of my mind is, “What is Facebook intending to do with that control?” Why is dominance an important part of Zuckerberg’s master plan?

Further, just what is that master plan?  Almost four years ago, in the early days of 2017, Zuckerberg issued a 6,000-word manifesto. In it, he addressed what he called “the most important question of all.” That question was, “Are we building the world we all want?”

According to the manifesto, the plan for Facebook includes “spreading prosperity and freedom, promoting peace and understanding, lifting people out of poverty, and accelerating science.”

Then, two years later, Zuckerberg issued another lengthy memo about his vision regarding privacy and the future of communication, which “will increasingly shift to private, encrypted services where people can be confident what they say to each other stays secure.” He explained that Facebook and Instagram are like a town square, a public place for communication. But WhatsApp and Messenger are like your living room, where you can have private conversations without worrying about those conversations.

So, how is all that wonderfulness going, anyway?

Well, first of all, there’s what Mark says, and what Facebook actually does. When he’s not firing off biennial manifestos promising a cotton-candy-colored world, he’s busy assembling all the pieces required to suck up as much data on you as possible, and fighting lawsuits when he gets caught doing something he shouldn’t be.

You have to understand that for Zuckerberg, all these plans are built on a common foundation: Everything happens on a platform that Facebook owns. And those platforms are paid for by advertising. And advertising needs data. And therein lies the problem: What the hell is Facebook doing with all this data?

I’m pretty sure it’s not spreading prosperity and freedom or promoting peace and understanding. Quite the opposite. If you look at Facebook’s fingerprints that are all over the sociological dumpster fire that has been the past four years, you could call them the Keyser Söze of shit disturbing.

And it’s only going to get worse. Facebook and other participants in the attention economy are betting heavily on facial recognition technology. This effectively eliminates our last shred of supposed anonymity online. It forever links our digital dust trail with our real-world activities. And it dumps even more information about you into the voracious algorithms of Facebook, Google and other data devourers. Again, what might be the plans for this data: putting in place the pieces of a more utopian world, or meeting next quarter’s revenue projections?

Here’s the thing. I don’t think Zuckerberg is being wilfully dishonest when he writes these manifestos. I think — at the time — he actually believes them. And he probably legitimately thinks that Facebook is the best way to accomplish them. Zuckerberg always believes he’s the smartest one in the room. And he — like Steve Jobs — has a reality distortion field that’s always on. In that distorted reality, he believes Facebook — a company that is entirely dependent on advertising for survival — can be trusted with all our data. If we just trust him, Facebook will all be okay.

The past four years have proven over and over again that that’s not true. It’s not even possible. No matter how good the intentions you go in with, the revenue model that fuels Facebook will subvert those intentions and turn them into something corrosive.

I think David Fincher summed up the problem nicely in his movie “The Social Network.” There, screenwriter Aaron Sorkin nailed the Zuckerberg nail on the head when he wrote the scene where Zuckerberg’s lawyer said to him, “You’re not an asshole, Mark. You’re just trying so hard to be.”

Facebook represents a lethal mixture that has all the classic warning signs of an abusive relationship:

  • A corporation that can survive only when its advertisers are happy.
  • Advertisers that are demanding more and more data they can use to target prospects.
  • A bro-culture where Facebook folks think they’re smarter than everyone else and believe they can actually thread the needle between being fabulous successful as an advertising platform and not being complete assholes.
  • And an audience of users who are misplacing their trust by buying into the occasional manifesto, while ignoring the red flags that are popping up every day.

Given all these factors, the question becomes: Will splitting up Facebook be a good or bad thing? It’s a question that will become very pertinent in the year to come. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Second Thoughts about the Social Dilemma

Watched “The Social Dilemma” yet? I did, a few months ago. The Netflix documentary sets off all kinds of alarms about social media and how it’s twisting the very fabric of our society. It’s a mix of standard documentary fodder — a lot of tell-all interviews with industry insiders and activists — with an (ill-advised, in my opinion) dramatization of the effects of social media addiction in one particular family.

The one most affected is a male teenager who is suddenly drawn, zombie-like,by his social media feed into an ultra-polarized political activist group. Behind the scenes, operating in a sort of evil-empire control room setting, there are literally puppet masters pulling his strings.

It’s scary as hell. But should we be scared? Or — at least — should we be that scared?

Many of us are sounding alarms about social media and how it nets out to be a bad thing. I’m one of the worst. I am very concerned about the impact of social media, and I’ve said so many, many times in this column. But I also admit that this is a social experiment playing out in real time, so it’s hard to predict what the outcome will be. We should keep our minds open to new evidence.

I’ve also said that younger generations seem to be handling this in stride. At least, they seem to be handling it better than those in my generation. They’re quicker to adapt and to use new technologies natively to function in their environments, rather than fumble as we do, searching for some corollary to the world we grew up in.

I’ve certainly had pushback on this observation. Maybe I’m wrong. Or maybe, like so many seemingly disastrous new technological trends before it, social media may turn out to be neither bad nor good. It may just be different.

That certainly seems to be the case if you read a new study from the Institute for Family Studies at Brigham Young University’s Wheatley Institution.  

One of the lead authors of the study, Jean Twenge, previously rang the alarm bells about how technology was short-circuiting the mental wiring of our youth. In a 2017 article in The Atlantic titled “Have Smartphones Destroyed a Generation?” she made this claim:

“It’s not an exaggeration to describe iGen as being on the brink of the worst mental-health crisis in decades. Much of this deterioration can be traced to their phones.”

The article describes a generation of zombies mentally hardwired to social media through their addiction to their iPhone. One of the more startling claims was this:

“Teens who spend three hours a day or more on electronic devices are 35 percent more likely to have a risk factor for suicide, such as making a suicide plan.”

Again, scary as hell, right? This sounds frighteningly familiar to the scenarios laid out in ““The Social Dilemma.”  

But what if you take this same group and this same author, fast-forward three years to the middle of the worst pandemic in our lifetimes, and check in with over 1,500 teens to see how they’re doing in a time where they have every right to be depressed? Not only are they locked inside, they’re also processing societal upheavals and existential threats like systemic racial inequality, alt-right political populism and climate change. If 2017-2018 was scary for them, 2020 is a dumpster fire.

Surprisingly, those same teens appear to be doing better than they were two years ago. The study had four measures of ill-being: loneliness, life dissatisfaction, unhappiness and depression.  The results were counterintuitive, to say the least. The number of teens indicating they were depressed actually dropped substantially, from 27% in 2018 to 17% who were quarantined during the school year in 2020. Fewer said they were lonely as well. 

The study indicated that the reasons for this could be because teens were getting more sleep and were spending more time with family.

But what about smartphones and social media? Wouldn’t a quarantined teen (a Quaran-teen?) be spending even more time on his or her phone and social media? 

Well, yes – and no. The study found screen time didn’t really go up, but the way that time was spent did shift. Surprising, time spent on social media went down, but time spent on video chats with friends or watching online streaming entertainment went up. 

As I shared in my column a few weeks ago, this again indicates that it’s not how much time we spend on social media that determines our mental state. It’s how we spend that time. If we spend it looking for connection, rather than obsessing over social status, it can be a good thing. 

Another study, from the University of Oxford, examined data on more than 300,000 adolescents and found that increased screen time has no more impact on teenager’s mental health than eating more potatoes. Or wearing glasses.

If you’re really worried about your teen’s mental health, make sure they have breakfast. Or get enough sleep. Or just spend more time with them. All those things are going to have a lot more impact than the time they spend on their phone.

To be clear, this is not me becoming a fan of Facebook or social media in general. There are still many things to be concerned about. But let’s also realize that technology — any technology– is a tool. It is not inherently good or evil. Those qualities can be found in how we choose to use technology. 

Have More People Become More Awful?

Is it just me, or do people seem a little more awful lately? There seems to be a little more ignorance in the world, a little less compassion, a little more bullying and a lot less courtesy.

Maybe it’s just me.

It’s been a while since I’ve checked in with eternal optimist Steven Pinker.  The Harvard psychologist is probably the best-known proponent of the argument that the world is consistently trending towards being a better place.  According to Pinker, we are less bigoted, less homophobic, less misogynist and less violent. At least, that’s what he felt pre-COVID lockdown. As I said, I haven’t checked in with him lately, but I suspect he would say the long-term trends haven’t appreciably changed. Maybe we’re just going through a blip.

Why, then, does the world seem to be going to hell in a hand cart?  Why do people — at least some people — seem so awful?

I think it’s important to remember that our brain likes to play tricks on us. It’s in a never-ending quest to connect cause and effect. Sometimes, to do so, the brain jumps to conclusions. Unfortunately, it is aided in this unfortunate tendency by a couple of accomplices — namely news reporting and social media. Even if the world isn’t getting shittier, it certainly seems to be. 

Let me give you one example. In my local town, an anti-masking rally was recently held at a nearby shopping mall. Local news outlets jumped on it, with pictures and video of non-masked, non-socially distanced protesters carrying signs and chanting about our decline into Communism and how their rights were being violated.

What a bunch of boneheads — right? That was certainly the consensus in my social media circle. How could people care so little about the health and safety of their community? Why are they so awful?

But when you take the time to unpack this a bit, you realize that everyone is probably overplaying their hands. I don’t have exact numbers, but I don’t think there were more than 30 or 40 protestors at the rally. The population of my city is about 150,000. These protestors represented .03% of the total population. 

Let’s say for every person at the rally, there were 10 that felt the same way but weren’t there. That’s still less than 1%. Even if you multiplied the number of protesters by 100, it would still be just 3% of my community. We’re still talking about a tiny fraction of all the people who live in my city. 

But both the news media and my social media feed have ensured that these people are highly visible. And because they are, our brain likes to use that small and very visible sample and extrapolate it to the world in general. It’s called availability bias, a cognitive shortcut where the brain uses whatever’s easy to grab to create our understanding of the world.

But availability bias is nothing new. Our brains have always done this. So, what’s different about now?

Here, we have to understand that the current reality may be leading us into another “mind-trap.” A 2018 study from Harvard introduced something called “prevalence-induced concept change,” which gives us a better understanding of how the brain focuses on signals in a field of noise. 

Basically, when signals of bad things become less common, the brain works harder to find them. We expand our definition of what is “bad” to include more examples so we can feel more successful in finding them.

I’m probably stretching beyond the limits of the original study here, but could this same thing be happening now? Are we all super-attuned to any hint of what we see as antisocial behavior so we can jump on it? 

If this is the case, again social media is largely to blame. It’s another example of our current toxic mix of dog whistlecancel culturevirtue signaling, pseudo-reality that is being driven by social media. 

That’s two possible things that are happening. But if we add one more, it becomes a perfect storm of perceived awfulness. 

In a normal world, we all have different definitions of the ethical signals we’re paying attention to. What you are focused on right now in your balancing of what is right and wrong is probably different from what I’m currently focused on. I may be thinking about gun control while you’re thinking about reducing your carbon footprint.

But now, we’re all thinking about the same thing: surviving a pandemic. And this isn’t just some theoretical mind exercise. This is something that surrounds us, affecting us every single day. When it comes to this topic, our nerves have been rubbed raw and our patience has run out. 

Worst of all, we feel helpless. There seems to be nothing we can do to edge the world toward being a less awful place. Behaviors that in another reality and on another topic would have never crossed our radar now have us enraged. And, when we’re enraged, we do the one thing we can do: We share our rage on social media. Unfortunately, by doing so, we’re not part of the solution. We are just pouring fuel on the fire.

Yes, some people probably are awful. But are they more awful than they were this time last year? I don’t think so. I also can’t believe that the essential moral balance of our society has collectively nosedived in the last several months. 

What I do believe is that we are living in a time where we’re facing new challenges in how we perceive the world. Now, more than ever before, we’re on the lookout for what we believe to be awful. And if we’re looking for it, we’re sure to find it.

Friendship: Uncoupled

This probably won’t come as a shock to anyone reading this: A recent study says that it’s not if you use social media that determines your happiness, but how you use social media. 

Derrick Wirtz, an associate professor of teaching in psychology at the University of British Columbia-Okanagan, took a close look at how people use three major social platforms—Facebook, Twitter and Instagram—and if how you use it can make you happier or sadder.

As I said, most of you probably said to yourself, “Yeah, that checks out.” But this study does bring up an interesting nuance with some far-reaching implications. 

In today’s world, we’re increasingly using Facebook to maintain our social connections. And, according to Facebook’s mission statement, that’s exactly what’s supposed to happen: “People use Facebook to stay connected with friends and family, to discover what’s going on in the world, and to share and express what matters to them.”

The interesting thing in this study is the divide between our social activities — those aimed at bonding versus those aimed at gaining status — and how that impacts our moods and behaviors. It’s difficult to untangle the effect of those two factors, because they are so intertwined in our psyches. But according to this study, Dr. Wirtz found that some of us are spending far more time on social media “status-checking” then actually tending to our friendships.

“Passive use, scrolling through others’ posts and updates, involves little person-to-person reciprocal interaction while providing ample opportunity for upward comparison,” says Wirtz. 

We can scroll our newsfeed without any actual form of engagement — but that’s not what we were designed to do. Our social skills evolved to develop essential mutually beneficial bonds in a small group setting.

Friendship is meant to be nurtured and tended to organically and intimately in a face-to-face environment.  But the distal nature of social media is changing the dynamics of how we maintain relationships in our network. 

Take how we first establish friendships, for instance. When you meet someone for the very first time, how do you decide whether you’re going to become friendly or not? The answer, not surprisingly, is complex and nuanced. Our brain works overtime to determine whether we should bond or not. But, also not surprisingly, almost none of that work is based on rational thought.

UCLA psychologist Dr. Elizabeth Laugeson teaches young adults with social challenges, such as those on the autism spectrum, how to take those very first steps toward friendship when meeting a stranger. If you can’t pick up the face-to-face nuances of body language and unspoken social cues intuitively, becoming friends can be incredibly difficult. Essentially, we are constantly scanning the other person for small signs of common interest from which we can start working toward building trust. 

Even if you clear this first hurdle, it’s not easy to build an actual friendship. It requires a massive investment of our time and energy. A recent study from the University of Kansas found it takes about 50 hours of socializing just to go from acquaintance to casual friend. 

Want to make a “real” friend? Tack another 40 hours onto that. And if you goal is to become a “close” friend, you’d better be prepared to invest at least a total of 200 hours. 

So that begs the question, why would we make this investment in the first place? Why do we need friends? And why do we need at least a handful of really close friends? The answer lies in the concept of reciprocity. 

From an evolutionary perspective, having friends made it easier to survive and reproduce. We didn’t have to go it alone. We could help each other past the rough spots, even if we weren’t related to each other. Having friends stacked the odds in our favor. 

This is when our investment in all those hours of building friendships paid off. Again, this takes us back to the intimate and organic roots of friendship. 

Our brains, in turn, reinforced this behavior by making sure that having friends made us happy. 

Of course, like most human behaviors, it’s not nearly that simple or benign. Our brains also entwine the benefits of friendship with the specter of social status, making everything much more complicated. 

Status also confers an evolutionary advantage. For many generations, we have trod this fine line between being a true friend and being obsessed with our own status in the groups where we hang out.

And then came social media.

As Wirtz’s study shows, we now have this dangerous uncoupling between these two sides of our nature. With social media, friendship is now many steps removed from its physical, intimate and organic roots. It is stripped of the context in which it evolved. And, it appears, the intertwined strands of friendship and social status are unraveling. When this happens, time on social media can reap the anxiety and jealousy of status-checking without any of the joy that comes from connecting with and helping a friend. 

On a person-to-person basis, this uncoupling can be disturbing and unfortunate. But consider what may happen when these same tendencies are amplified and magnified through a massive, culture-wide network.