Getting to Not Know You

Last month Facebook unveiled Beacon, a program that alerts users to their friends' online purchases -- and ignited a brushfire of protest. After 50,000 users signed a petition against having their purchases automatically broadcast, the company amended Beacon's design. I can't help wondering, though: Is this a joke? People are protesting Facebook's violation of privacy?

Like many online junkies, I never intended to devote a significant portion of my life to Mark Zuckerberg's nifty program. I joined Facebook upon arriving at college because everyone had a profile. "How can you not have one?" people demanded. So I caved and filled in the blanks: school and academic information; contact details (e-mail, cellphone); favorite music, movies, books and quotes. Even a little blurb "about me." And voila! My online profile was ready for review by the 12,558 students and alumni at my university, and I could surf their profiles and "know" their friends. I quickly started "friending" everyone I met so I could get up to speed on his or her status.

I found people I hadn't seen in years: friends from elementary school, former girlfriends, friends of friends of friends. There was Sarah, who had a crush on me in third grade; Nina, from middle school, who has grown into a total babe; Elisa from jazz band. My Facebook frenzy, at first, was driven by the thrill of finding lost childhood contacts and collecting new friends.

Over time I found myself checking my account once, then twice, then five times a day. Every time I sat at a computer I needed to see if I had gotten any "wall posts" or new messages, fresh pictures or picture tags. I had to keep my profile up to date. I had to have the most Facebook friends and wall posts, and I had to post pictures of myself partying (at parties mostly organized via Facebook's "events" application).

I gradually came to understand that while I could show the world the great time I was having just being myself, an equally popular -- and addictive -- aspect of Facebook is that it lets people look into others' private lives. I have access to most profiles in the university network, so I can discover which people know each other, find out whether students have girlfriends or boyfriends, and read their current and past wall posts. I can see what they do in their spare time, what movies they like, their party pictures.

This scrutinizing is a common Facebook practice known as "stalking." Most users tend to do it a lot more than we let on.

It's shocking what you can learn from people's profiles when they live their lives in full view of the public. One couple I know had a fight completely via wall posts, shortly before their "relationship status" changed to "single." Another couple has been declaring undying love for each other for months via wall posts. A picture of a friend of mine kissing a girl at a party was tagged to his collection of pictures, where his girlfriend saw it. A female acquaintance accused someone of being a lousy kisser and apologized to someone else for trying to sleep with her boyfriend; the next day she posted a note apologizing for writing while drunk. (The phrase used to be: Friends don't let friends drive drunk. These days it is: Friends don't let friends Facebook drunk.)

I've found that when discussing mutual acquaintances with friends, someone almost always mentions Facebook. I have also occasionally found myself meeting a friend of a friend -- who happens to be someone whose profile I have read. I always act as if I know nothing. No one wants to be seen as a stalker. Yet we're all Jimmy Stewart in "Rear Window," getting a voyeuristic eyeful of people's intimate lives through the windows they themselves have opened.

All this started to add up, and scare me, over the summer. I interned in Washington at a company where most employees had Facebook profiles. Naturally, I "friended" many of them. One day my boss made some comments about my personal status and movie interests, creeping me out. He had broken the cardinal, if unwritten, rule of Facebook etiquette: Never hint that you know anything about someone's profile. Voyeurism must be anonymous (which might be why Beacon caused such a stir).

I'm in recovery now, having realized that the last thing I want is for people to find out about me the things that I used to find out about them. I have removed loads of personal information from Facebook, de-tagging myself from pictures, abandoning the "status update" as a narrative of my private life and walling myself off from Beacon's grasp. These days, I'm finding myself with time on my hands. Best of all, beating my addiction has opened up a novel way to get to know people: face to face.

The writer is a sophomore at the University of St. Andrews in Scotland.