It shouldn’t really be a thing, but I felt the need to mark the day I deleted my Facebook account. Seldom are people able to destroy (traces of) their (digital) life with complete knowledge of its consequences and hence this occasion warrants a mention.
Facebook has been in the news for all the wrong reasons for the past few years, but the latest hack was the last straw that broke the camel’s back. I had already dialed up the privacy settings to “11” few years ago and the only reason for the account to exist was for acquaintances to get in touch. However, as I realised over the course of time, most people yearn for a wider, if irrelevant, audience.
As far as connectivity is concerned, my mobile number as well as my current email address predates Facebook by over half a decade so those who want to get in touch, still can. It is no coincidence that a lot of account deletion guides have popped up again but it would be best to refer to the one from Facebook itself. Going through the downloaded data is a trip down the memory lane but it is also an instant realisation of how much information Facebook has accumulated and retained over the years, despite using their highest privacy settings.
As a final relic, I have included the cover photo that I maintained at Facebook for nearly 3 years prior to deletion. I had no misapprehensions of what Facebook was all about but it was unfortunate to see the evil and greed quotient increase exponentially thereafter. As is the case for every decision that Facebook makes, account deletion is based on cost-benefit analysis. For me, the former far outweighed the latter. The cost may have always been invisible but the price paid definitely was not. It’s time to move on to a brave new world without Facebook.
