How Facebook killed itself
Back in 2010, Facebook was the go-to platform where everyone seemed to be sharing their lives and connecting with one another. It was as if the world had suddenly shrunk, bringing people closer in ways that felt almost magical. You could rediscover old friends, reminisce about shared memories, and broadcast the highlights of your life to friends across the globe. While features like groups, following inspirations, and sharing content weren’t entirely new to the internet, Facebook made them more intuitive and engaging than ever before. I vividly remember being 15 and oversharing my thoughts, only to cringe about it later. To me, Facebook felt like a personal diary, a digital time capsule to revisit moments and memories.
But then, things began to change... and far too quickly. What once felt like a place to reconnect with friends and family began to morph into something almost unrecognizable. It started innocently enough with cosmetic tweaks—themes, buttons, and interface updates. Then came GIFs, followed by videos in the comments. These updates were welcomed as they made interactions livelier and more engaging. However, the changes didn’t stop there, and soon, the platform began to drift away from its core purpose.
The arrival of third-party apps marked a turning point. The homepage became cluttered with promotional content and notifications urging users to subscribe to premium features. Games and quizzes, once fun diversions, were increasingly overshadowed by apps designed to extract data and push microtransactions.
And then there was the shift to becoming a news and media platform. Facebook, rather than addressing users’ concerns about privacy and content quality, doubled down on becoming a hub for news streaming. Unfortunately, this pivot brought with it an avalanche of polarized content. Clickbait headlines, misinformation, and divisive articles dominated timelines, making it harder to find genuine updates from friends and family. The algorithm, designed to maximize engagement, prioritized outrage and sensationalism over authenticity and balance.
As phishing scams, identity theft, and the misuse of personal photos became commonplace, many grew wary of sharing anything truly personal on the platform. What was once a digital scrapbook of life’s moments turned into a calculated decision about what was safe to post.
Even attempts to connect with loved ones became frustrating. Algorithmic changes meant you weren’t guaranteed to see updates from the people who mattered most to you. Instead, your feed was filled with what the platform decided you should see: advertisements, viral posts, and content designed to keep you scrolling endlessly. The simplicity of logging on to catch up with friends was replaced with a manipulative system designed to maximize ad revenue at the cost of user experience.
Rather than addressing these critical issues, Facebook seemed intent on becoming a sprawling media empire. The platform added live streaming, e-commerce features, and even dating services, all while leaving behind the core values that once made it special. It wasn’t the platform people had signed up for anymore—it was a corporation chasing profits at the expense of its users.
Facebook is a glaring example of corporate greed in the modern era. What has now evolved into Meta was once a cherished platform, deeply personal to its users—a space for genuine connection and community. Its transformation over the years highlights how competition in the tech industry, when driven solely by profit, can become detrimental to society.
Many of us long for the days before social media became an inescapable part of life, back when interactions were more meaningful and less dictated by algorithms designed to keep us hooked. Today, platforms like Facebook have grown into addictive and often isolating digital environments, draining our time and impacting mental health in profound ways.
This technological behemoth seems poised to dominate the foreseeable future, and without intervention, its influence may only deepen. One can only hope that effective regulations will emerge to curb its excesses, ensuring that technology serves humanity rather than exploits it.
