Facebook: From friendship feed to digital farm — what are we sowing, what are we losing?

Not long ago, Facebook felt harmless. A place to share summer photos, reconnect with old friends, send a birthday message. A novelty. A simple ritual.

Today, for many, opening Facebook or Instagram is as natural as taking a breath. Almost involuntary. We wake up → tap the blue icon. Stand in line → scroll. Pause at work → refresh. A ritual, yes—but one that now shapes how we relate, consume, and even think.

It slipped into our lives quietly. And while we weren’t looking, it rewired us.

We remember the old excitement:

A notification meant something personal—someone was speaking to you. You were part of a living network.

But the network changed.

The moment in the movie The Social Network—when the Napster founder says, “Don’t think a million. Think a billion dollar valuation”—felt bold, almost absurd. Yet here we are. That seed grew into a machine worth $1.68 trillion. And how did it get there?

By selling us.

Not literally—but close enough.

Our attention, our patterns, our needs, our fears—captured and auctioned to the highest bidder.

Open your feed today, and what’s there?

Is it your sister’s baby photos? Your friend’s update from Spain? A thoughtful message from someone you love?

Maybe. But first—ads.

Not random ones.

Perfectly tailored to you.

You thought of new boots yesterday—somehow they appear today.

Convenient?

Or…predatory?

It’s easy to shrug—everyone does it. But when every swipe delivers a new suggestion about who to be, what to value, and what to buy, haven’t we surrendered something essential?

It feels less like community, more like cultivation.

As though we are being farmed—our growth measured not in wisdom or connection but in conversion rates. Every scroll feeds the system. The fields expand. The ads multiply. And we keep harvesting…nothing.

Yet within this vast commercial maze, there are still pockets of humanity.

Marketplace lets us extend the life of objects, honoring sustainability. Groups still hold space for meaningful exchange. Some of us use these corners to share mindful products, experiences, or alternative ways of living.

These uses matter.

But even they exist inside a structure designed to keep us scrolling long enough to be sold something.

So the question is not whether Facebook is good or bad.

The question is: What is it shaping us into?

And more importantly—

What are we sacrificing to participate?

When you log in next time, observe what happens inside you.

Are you lifted? Or drained?

Do you return with something of value? Or only a fleeting distraction?

We search outside for the next post, the next marketplace find, the next message. But what if everything we’re chasing is already within us—waiting quietly beneath the noise?

What if the real feed is internal?

What if the true marketplace is the exchange between self and spirit?

Facebook promised connection.

But the deepest connection is the one we cultivate with our own heart, our own truth.

Maybe it’s time to step back—not to condemn, but to remember.

Remember what matters.

Remember what’s real.

Remember that the most valuable thing you’ll

ever “click on”

is yourself.

Bill