Stop pretending your Facebook friends are your real friends
The time has come for a cull
According to a recent study, the maximum number of friends it’s possible to maintain – in terms of those cared about and contacted at least once a year – is 150.
The average Facebook user has over 300 friends and this is usually much higher for users under the age of 25.
Why do we feel the need to constantly observe other people’s lives? It’s time consuming and often just boring. Only a small proportion of these people are those we genuinely care about. And so, as I saw a plethora of bland statuses clogging up my newsfeed, I came to a conclusion.
Ladies and gents, it’s time for a cull.
First to go is the boy with loads of mutual friends who you accepted just in case you had met and you didn’t remember: you haven’t interacted in the four years you’ve been Facebook friends, and most likely never will. Cull him.
Equally that girl you met at a party a few years ago – you were best friends for the night, but neither of you remember what you bonded over and you haven’t spoken since. And sorry, Harry, but I don’t even remember accepting your request in the first place. You can go.
Then there are the ones you feel you know inside out. You know when they’re out with the lads or with the girls. You even know the date of their great Aunt Theresa’s birthday because they post a lovely collage every year, even though Theresa doesn’t have Facebook because she’s 87. You also haven’t seen them since primary school, and even then you weren’t particularly close. Cull them all. You don’t need Tina’s heartfelt statuses about “fuckbois”, and you don’t need Jack’s GoPro videos from Val Thorens because they’re not your friends and they never were.
Next to go is your teacher from year 9 who added half the year when he moved to Australia even though he probably shouldn’t have. It was funny at the time but now it just seems a bit weird. No, Mr Moore, I don’t need updates of you petting koalas.
Then there are the exchanges from back in Year 9, posting lyrics to English songs; this may appear cultured and mysterious if you’re French and don’t understand the words but for the rest of us, Ed Sheeran doesn’t have quite the same effect. Cull them, unless you actually still talk or they have really nice houses in the South of France.
It’s not personal, I promise. It’s just necessary.