I’ve been waiting 15 years for Facebook to die. I’m more hopeful than ever

theguardian.com:

I’ve been praying for Facebook’s collapse ever since it attained liftoff. In a 2007 article, I predicted that “your creepy ex-co-workers will kill Facebook” by demanding to know why you won’t “friend” them, prompting an exodus to the next platform. That was the social network cycle back then: a new network opens, and you and the people you genuinely like enjoy a rollicking group chat until all the people you have to pretend to like show up.

That’s the double-edged sword of products that rely on “network effects” – the economists’ term for a product that gets better when more people use it. Sure, you might join Facebook because your friends are all there (and more people might sign up because you’re there), but that also means that every time your friends leave Facebook, it’s a reason for you to leave, too.

My prediction failed. For a decade and a half, Facebook resisted the fate of all the social networks that preceded it. In hindsight, it’s easy to see why: it cheated. The company used investor cash to buy and neutralize competitors (“Kids are leaving Facebook for Insta? Fine, we’ll buy Insta. We know you value choice!”). It allegedly spied on users through the deceptive use of apps such as Onavo and exploited the intelligence to defeat rivals. More than anything, it ratcheted up “switching costs.”

“Switching costs” is another economic term: it means “the price you pay when you switch from one service to another.” Switching from Facebook to a rival means saying goodbye to the communities, friends and customers you hang out with on the platform. Normally, tech has really low switching costs: want to change from T-Mobile to Verizon? Just port your number. Your friends don’t even have to know you did; they can still call you