I knew my online life had to change when my boss decided that he would join Facebook. As the resident young person in an office of thirty and forty-somethings I was tasked with setting up his online profile. His first act on Facebook was to make me a Facebook friend. I had created a monster.
Intrigued colleagues followed my boss’s lead and also asked me to create their online existence and make me their online friends. Soon I had to justify my choice of Anchorman and Zoolander as favourite films. I realised that once you admit a love of silly Will Ferrell films, bosses might doubt your professional judgment too.
My profile had to change, and so did my online behaviour. My favourite hobbies no longer included “working up a sweat, cooking up a storm”. In fact, I quickly had no hobbies, musical or cinematic preferences at all. I was quick to “detag” any compromising photographs posted by others as I didn’t want anyone to think that I had too much fun or was too much fun to be taken seriously.
In essence, I attempted to remove any indication of quirks to my colleagues. Quirks are good for your personality, but might be the reason you miss a deadline.
One problem with Facebook is that it cannot distinguish between the friend who knows all of your embarrassing secrets and those with whom you enjoy a two-minute chat. To counter this one friend created two profiles, one for personal friends and one for colleagues, in an effort to keep his two lives separate. I’ve decided that trying to maintain one online life is hard enough.