Facebook overlord Mark Zuckerberg with a padlock, which for the purposes of this article is both metaphorical and literal (Getty Images)
Facebook overlord Mark Zuckerberg with a padlock, which for the purposes of this article is both metaphorical and literal (Getty Images)

MediaMay 4, 2018

Like it or not, Facebook has got you for life

Facebook overlord Mark Zuckerberg with a padlock, which for the purposes of this article is both metaphorical and literal (Getty Images)
Facebook overlord Mark Zuckerberg with a padlock, which for the purposes of this article is both metaphorical and literal (Getty Images)

Should you delete your Facebook page? In many important ways it doesn’t matter what you decide, writes Sophie Bateman for Newshub.

In 2004, when college student Mark Zuckerberg launched thefacebook.com, he could hardly have known the global juggernaut his website would become.

Fast-forward to 2018 and Facebook is in the middle of its biggest ever crisis.

Last month it was revealed that up to 87 million users’ data was improperly shared with political consulting firm Cambridge Analytica, potentially affecting the outcomes of both the UK’s Brexit referendum and the 2016 US presidential election.

In the weeks since, more details about how Facebook operates have emerged. The company scans private messages, stores information about when and where its users have ever logged in, and can access everyone’s webcam and microphone.

Zuckerberg had to testify before US Congress, answering questions about his creation in a farcical hearing that launched a thousand memes. *cue robot blinking*

The backlash was swift. Shares plummeted, other tech CEOs condemned the network and the hashtag #deletefacebook began to circulate online – spearheaded by none other than Tesla’s Elon Musk. New Zealand’s Privacy Commissioner John Edwards has deleted his account, and says others should reconsider their own relationship with the site.

But is a move away from Facebook realistic? Or are our lives simply too entangled?

Dr Neal Curtis, media and communications lecturer at the University of Auckland, says it’s too late for anyone to consciously uncouple from the social media behemoth. Even if we delete our accounts, there’s no taking back the information most of us have freely given Facebook over the years. “Like that awful American band The Eagles say, ‘You can check out but you can never leave’,” he says.

“You can never, ever leave Facebook. You can close your account but you cannot leave. Facebook owns everything. You can’t delete any of that stuff, you can’t take it back. They’ve got you for life. People don’t know that.”

Facebook user Mark Zuckerberg delivers the opening keynote address at the f8 Developer Conference April 21, 2010 in San Francisco, California. Photo by Justin Sullivan/Getty Images

Too big to fail

Dr Curtis says he can see “troubling” parallels with the global financial crisis of 2008, when governments had no choice but to bail out the banks to avoid crippling society.

“They’re so big that they can do literally anything they want to, because the whole of society is beholden to them,” he says of social media corporations. “If we wanted to reform them or clip their wings a bit, we don’t have any power to do so. You can’t even get them to pay any tax.”

The Cambridge Analytica saga has proven the “impotence” of regulatory bodies when it comes to social media, raising questions about where contemporary power truly lies, he says.

Kathleen Kuehn, senior lecturer of media studies at Victoria University, says any rumours of Facebook’s demise are greatly exaggerated. “Facebook has 2.2 billion uses monthly, which is larger than the population of most large countries,” she says. “To suggest Facebook users are going to delete in mass I think is quite unlikely.”

She says there are simply too many consequences to leaving the site, both social and economic, for most people to make the move.

“Facebook is a primary means by which we communicate with one another, not only in terms of social relationships but family relationships, friends. It’s an archive of memories, and photographs, it enhances social relationships. It also has an economic function for many people.”

Ms Kuehn says even if we know how much data Facebook has on us, we’re likely to just accept it as the price we pay for a free service. “I think most people are quite aware of that trade-off, versus the privacy they feel is compromised or the data they’re giving up. They still see the social or economic benefits as greater than what they’re trading.”

Even knowing the alarming details about how Facebook operates, it seems we just don’t care that much.

Naivety and complacency

Wanita Zoghby-Fourie, founder of New Zealand’s Social Media Conference, says the significance of the data breach may have gone over most people’s heads. “I think a lot of people are naïve and complacent about social media. When something like this happens, there’s a big uproar and then something else comes along.”

She thinks most New Zealanders have already forgotten that an estimated 63,724 Kiwis’ information was given to a shadowy British political consultancy. “People move forward. If this happens again, people will say, ‘Wow, do you remember the Cambridge Analytica thing?'”

Social media strategist Pauline Stockhausen agrees. She says it’s not a big deal for many people, “especially the younger generation”. “My son’s 19 and he couldn’t care less. If it affects them directly then they’ll take notice. If it doesn’t, they’re not going to.”

She argues that in 2018, social media is part of life and we don’t have much of a choice in the matter.

“Facebook’s been in our lives for so long now, what would happen if we didn’t have it? It would have to take something big for people to change the habits they’ve had over the last 10 years.”

But Paul Spain, CEO of Gorilla Tech, isn’t convinced that social media’s too big to fail.

“Facebook is already blocked in China. A society can get on just fine without these things, we had other mechanisms before. There are always alternatives. If Facebook were shut down out of a whole lot more countries, we would see something else spring up.”

However until that happens, it looks unlikely that anything will challenge the grip Facebook has on us. “There are other social media platforms being created with no advertising, but they’re so small they don’t have the clout to compete with the likes of Facebook,” says Ms Zoghby-Fourie.

Ello was launched in 2014 to much fanfare, but has faded from public consciousness. There’s also Diaspora, whose selling point is that you can retain your data without having to sign it over to a corporation.

Vero and Mastodon are both ad-free, meaning no data mining – but users may have to pay a subscription fee in future which will no doubt turn people off from a service they now expect for free.

Diaspora, a potential Facebook replacement, prides itself on its data privacy. Photo credit: Diaspora

The alternative: “boring as fuck”

Dr Curtis’ solution is a left-wing dream: a publicly funded, government-run social media. “We live in an age of transparency where everyone can see everything about us, but the companies that are developing that culture are completely non-transparent. What we need are companies that are publicly accountable.”

Which, he concedes, “might be boring as fuck”.

“We need to accept that social media offer a fantastic service, understand that and the problems that come with private corporations having unfettered access to all of that information. [We need] public media where it’s transparent how the information is being used, where the business model is not about making profit, it’s about funding through taxes.”

Facing the consequences

In response to the scandal, Facebook came out with a statement in April saying they’d let people know if their data had been accessed by Cambridge Analytica. They’ve also “dramatically” reduced the amount of information people can share with apps and will turn off access for apps that haven’t been used in three months.

While this might placate people for now, Mr Spain points out that from a site usage perspective, Facebook has been on a downward trajectory for years. In January it reported that its overall usage had dropped in the previous quarter by about 50 million hours a day – that’s roughly two minutes per user. Facebook also experienced its first drop in daily North American users after a controversial change to the News Feed algorithm.

But, cunningly, it branched out into Messenger as well as WhatsApp and Instagram, diversifying the business and ensuring it retains a massive number of users across its various apps and platforms.

“There have certainly been no signs of decline – whether that could become more dramatic comes down to how much attention media put on it and what other scandals are revealed,” Mr Spain reasons. “They can’t keep having these sorts of blunders and expect to come away unscathed.”

But while public trust in Facebook might be at an all-time low, the numbers simply don’t reflect that. Last quarter, Facebook grew its base of daily platform users by 2.18% – a slowdown compared to the previous quarter, but an increase nonetheless.

Even after everything we’ve learned, it seems that now we’ve got Facebook – and the good and bad that goes with it – we’re just not willing to let it go again.

We’re living in Zuckerberg’s world now, and it’s a mess of our own making.

This article was originally published on Newshub


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MediaMay 4, 2018

Jackie van Beek and Madeleine Sami are changing the game, one pube joke at a time

Alex Casey sits down for a yarn with Madeleine Sami and Jackie van Beek, as their film The Breaker Upperers opens in New Zealand cinemas.

Madeleine Sami is hooning a beer and Jackie van Beek is sipping a kombucha, or “bin juice” as Sami prefers to call it. We are a few hours out from the New Zealand premiere of The Breaker Upperers, and I’m a little bit worried. They’ve done a lot of interviews already, and I fear they’ll be bored by me, the very last media interview before they go and get ready for the glitzy premiere. “Back yourself girl,” says Sami, slamming her fist down on the table. “This our pep talk for you, we’re all about women supporting other women,” encourages Van Beek from behind her ice cold glass of bin juice.

I begin to feel less worried as Sami begins bellowing hashtags, starting with #timesup and #metoo and slowly slipping into just saying “hashtag” over and over again. This is what it’s like to have lunch with two of New Zealand’s funniest people. Bigtime creative collaborators who you might remember recently from Three’s Funny Girls, the pair are also the writers, co-directors and stars of The Breaker Upperers. They’re also mothers, longtime friends and whatever the hell else you want to call them. “We learned what we are really called when we went overseas,” says Van Beek. “Multi-hyphenates. If I had a CV, I’d put that on it.”

Opening in cinemas across the country this week, The Breaker Upperers is a hilarious “womance” – a term coined by Sami – following two women, scorned by love, who make a living by tearing relationships apart. “We wanted their friendship to be the focus and their male love interests completely secondary,” says Van Beek. “We don’t want to have to follow convention to be happy and neither should the audience – let’s fuck the system a little.” She gestures around the cafe. “What’s actually happening in reality? Look around, what do people actually look like? What do people actually talk about? What are their real hopes and dreams?”

That desire to tap into the realest of real manifests strongly in the film, from a terse “bra stays on” quip during the throes of passion to the frank chats that women have on a car bonnet after half a large beer. Whether it’s grey pubes, old eggs or female masturbation, The Breaker Upperers is chocka with things we traditionally haven’t seen a lot discussed about in New Zealand pop culture. “In life, we talk about this stuff, so we just thought we’d put it on screen. We talk about masturbating every day, don’t we Mads? I ring you first thing every morning to talk about it.” She pauses and looks at my phone recording on the table. “That’s a joke.”

The pair both adore romantic comedies, some of which were reference points during the writing of The Breaker Upperers and others cautionary tales (strictly no double church weddings were allowed for the finale). Sami loves “Jenn Ann” and Cameron Diaz’s Bad Teacher, Van Beek is more of an Owen Wilson girl with a surprising soft spot for the 2006 film You, Me and Dupree. One thing they are in total agreement on is the impact of female ensemble film Bridesmaids, which also falls under the newly-minted ‘womance’ umbrella. “I just couldn’t believe that I hadn’t seen that movie before. It felt like watching my life, like I knew those women.” Van Beek remembers watching the film in the cinema while her husband was “literally laughing on the floor” and thinking to herself ‘everything has changed’.

That may sound dramatic, but these women know all too well how these watershed films can shift the paradigms in Hollywood. “It was a real moment in cultural history, and the first time that Hollywood realised that funny women could sell a movie,” says Sami, who was once told by an LA executive that “no-one’s really doing female comedy right now.” She returned to Hollywood after the success of Bridesmaids in 2011, and noticed an immediate difference. “Suddenly everyone’s all over you. ‘Women! Women in comedy! What have you got! Where have you been?!’ Women have been here the whole time, we’ve just been the hot sidekicks.”

And then there’s the impact of the #metoo movement, centralising women’s experiences in broader culture. “There’s just so much shit that women have put up with for years. And then, all of a sudden, you finally see the world for what it is,” says Sami. This comes through in The Breaker Upperers, which is by no means a stern piece of #metoo treatise, but features a throwaway line where Sami’s character Mel warns a female dog walker to stay away from a shady spot at night. It’s a casual interaction that every woman will know. “People are just not putting up with stuff anymore, which is great timing for our film because it suddenly feels like what we are writing is suddenly being properly received.”

Their desire to push the boundaries – aka talk about normal stuff that effects to 50% of the population – came gushing forth years ago, during an improvised scene in their mate Taika Waititi’s 2014 film What We Do In The Shadows. Riffing with Van Beek on the idea of a menstruating vampire, Sami remembers the men behind the camera “recoiling in horror” at what was coming out of their mouths. The pair still think it was hilarious. “Taika is a dear friend of ours, of course, but even he was pretty grossed out,” says Van Beek. “We were just jamming about what it would be like to have your period while you were also a vampire and what that might… lead to.”

You might not remember the scene from the film, because it didn’t make it.

Cut to 2018, and Sami and Van Beek are now calling the shots of their own, and have been touted, weirdly, as “the female Taika and Jemaine” by Variety. They’ve also been called “comediennes” in multiple media outlets and our own Seven Sharp came under fire for calling The Breaker Upperers “Taika Waititi’s latest film”. Do they find it frustrating? Not really. “That’s just innate sexism, the fact that people can’t just credit us alone for the film. The reality is that we wrote it and Taika and Jemaine helped us out in small ways,” says Sami. “I think people assume that Taika made the film because it couldn’t have been funny without his help.”

Sami recalls reading a review that noted Taika’s “touch” was all over their film. “That just isn’t true. We wrote it, Taika just came in and did a pass on it.” Van Beek hopes it’s not a problem they’ll have to deal with again. “When we do our second film people will see it as funny and good and they’ll start to think ‘that’s Madeleine and Jackie’s touch all over it’ rather than someone else’s.” Her writing partner is equally zen. “We don’t feel any anger because he’s our mate and we know he’s not trying to claim anything at all.” “And, quite importantly,” adds Van Beek, “he did write a lot of jokes that we cut.”

So now the film is finally out in cinemas, the New Zealand multi-hyphenates are taking calls in their cars from Hollywood between interviews, and I can’t tell if they are joking when they talk about making The Breaker Upperers into the first New Zealand buddy trilogy – if you don’t count Lord of the Rings. “The goal for me is that it’s not an anomaly for there to be a female comedy film in New Zealand,” says Sami. “I hope that there’s a bunch more made because there are so many funny women in New Zealand.” Most of them pop up at some point or another in The Breaker Upperers – with cameos from Angella Dravid, Rose Matafeo and Ana Scotney, to name just a few.

Not only do they want to shake up the faces we see on screen, but there was an effort the change how things run behind the scenes as well. Boasting a crew of 60% women, and marking the debut project for Miss Conception films, The Breaker Upperers also employed job-sharing mothers. “We did things in ways that are not traditionally done. We wanted to show that you can have a baby and make it work,” says Sami. The choice for two women to co-direct also bucks the trend of the sole, genius, male, auteur. “I mentor a lot of young women who say they don’t feel like they have the courage to lead a team,” says Van Beek. “My hope is that in showing them this co-directing model, women might team up with a friend and have a bit more courage.”

It honestly sounds like they’ve carefully considered absolutely every part of The Breaker Upperers universe, so did they ever have any quiet moments of doubt when balancing writing, directing and acting? “No,” says Van Beek. “We’d get tired, we’d get fatigued, but we had this really strong feeling that making this film was just a necessity. We were like ‘fuck it’, we just want to prove to ourselves, and to everyone else, that it’s actually possible.”

“And it is.”


The Breaker Upperers is now open in cinemas nationwide