Breaking up in a digital fishbowl, revisited. (Or: How the New York Times filleted me on the front page of the Style section)
In a digital fishbowl in more ways than one
Ending a relationship sucks, no matter which side of the break-up you’re on. A piece in the New York Times today explores how the Internet makes things even worse. It suggests you ask someone experienced in the suckiness of digital dissolutions: me.
NYT journalist Laura Holson called me last week as a privacy expert for the piece; during our interview, I went into some personal experiences, and went from being an expert source to being an anecdote.
In 2006, I ended a three-year relationship. It sucked. We had a shared bank account that we used for joint expenses. As we went through the break-up process and debated whether we really wanted to end things, we let it dwindle to a piddling amount. After months of indecision, I finally called Bank of America. The representative asked me why I had decided to close the account, and I broke into tears.
It was devastating at the time. But now I think it’s a laughable moment (which I told the journalist). But I don’t look amused in the photo accompanying the piece, since the photographer insisted I not smile.
Holson sums up the break-up here:
Ask Kashmir Hill, who was stung one day when she logged into a former boyfriend’s e-mail account — they had agreed to share passwords — and read a note he sent his mother explaining why he was no longer in love. The couple shared an online bank account and, for months after the breakup, Ms. Hill pored over the balance as it dwindled to $10. She cried when she finally closed the account.
There’s a little melodrama there that’s not entirely accurate. I was wary of talking to Holson about my personal life, but thought it would be hypocritical for a journalist to abstain from being a source for another journalist. After seeing these quotes though, I wish I’d been a hypocrite:
“It’s enough to get rejected in real life,” said Ms. Hill, 28, who blogs about legal issues and lives in New York. “But does it have to happen so often in my online world too? It makes me want to keep my digital life separate in future relationships, whomever they are with.”
Those are not words I can imagine coming out of my mouth, or anyone’s mouth really, except for an actor in a teen sitcom. It’s not like something I would say or something that’s reflective of my own experiences. I was baffled to see those words in quotation marks followed by my name. I sent Holson a Facebook message asking whether these came from a digital tape recorder or from her notes. They came from her notes, she replied. I’d say, “Let’s go to the tape.” But apparently I can’t do that.*
My embarrassing appearance in the NYT aside, the article raises an interesting question: do our digital entanglements make breaking up harder?
It’s not a new question. There has been much written about the dreaded status change on Facebook. It’s embarrassing for us all to watch our friends go from “single,” to “in a relationship,” to “it’s complicated,” to “single” again.
That’s not really new. It’s an age-old process. Letting friends know your relationship has failed always sucked. But Facebook has streamlined the process and exposed it to many eyes. And having a digital trail can make the heartache last longer:
As a result, the idea of what it means to break up is also being redefined. Where once a spurned lover could use scissors (literally) to cut an ex out of the picture, digital images of the smiling couple in happier days abound on the Web and are difficult to delete. Status updates and tweets have a way of wending their way back to scorned exes, thanks to the interconnectedness of social media. And breakups, awkward and drawn-out in person, are even more so online as details are parsed by the curious, their faces pressed against the digital glass.
The digital age makes it harder for us to really get away from our exes. When my parents tell me about old flames, those people are truly gone from their lives. They severed ties years ago, and they have no idea where they are now or what is happening with their lives.
But I can fairly easily Google all my exes and figure out what they’re up to. I’m Facebook friends with all but one of them. We Internet-savvy folks are faced with the irresistible temptation to Facebook stalk exes (recently made easier thanks to the Facebook privacy setting changes.) I don’t know if it’s emotionally healthy to go trawling through their pages. But I do it anyway, because my curiosity is stronger than my ability to become emotionally detached.
(I’m not sure if men do this, but I have to assume the Y chromosome harbors some crazy stalking tendencies too. Holson notes in the piece that all the men she contacted refused to talk to her about their personal lives. If any male voices want to weigh in, I welcome your comments or you can e-mail me. I promise to quote you anonymously, and accurately.)
And what about your ex Face-stalking you? Some put their exes on limited profile or defriend them entirely. I’ve done both.
Two lessons I’ve learned from all this: (1) No ring, no passwords. (Hattip: ATL Commenter.) And (2) Don’t talk to NYT journalists about your personal life. If you do, bring your own digital tape recorder.
* Holson insists the quotes are accurate though she did admit the comments that inspired them came during a part of the interview where we spoke more generally about relationships in the digital age. I have certainly been dumped before but not “so often.” In talking about rejection, I was relating a story about being de-friended by the ex-boyfriend of a close friend of mine, who was cutting all of his ties to my friend. As to the last sentence, I remember Holson asking me: “Does this make you want to keep your digital life separate in future relationships, whomever they are with?” To which I responded, “I suppose so.”
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It’s an instructive experience to be interviewed and/or quoted/misquoted, certainly in so high-profile a spot. Every journalist needs to have this experience, even if it’s unpleasant and uncomfortable — just as every physician needs to spend some time a poorly-fitting paper gown or anxiously awaiting rest results.
This is how many of our sources feel and why so many refuse to even talk to a reporter. I’m surprised you’re surprised.
I made this error in my mid-20s and found my comments on the front page of the British tabloid press, a much nastier beast. It showed me the absurd amount of power journalists wield without any thought as to its consequences — and what it really feels like when it doesn’t turn out the way you hoped.
It’s not a fun experience but a powerful and, hopefully, cautionary one.
Agreed, Caitlin. Which is part of the reason I was willing to be interviewed. It will certainly make me more sensitive in how I treat my sources in the future.
In response to another comment. See in context »Sounds like Laura Holson knew the story she wanted to write before she even interviewed you. The photographer is complicit, too — trying to capture that ‘I’ve been digitally dumped’ moment.
I think it’s safe to assume your relationship with the NYT can now be changed to It’s Complicated.
I’ll bite: I was defriended by an ex about 8 months after we split. Word leaked back to me from a mutual friend that she was upset about photos of me with my new squeeze. This was actually a healthy reminder of why we split – she had a jealousy problem that I couldn’t abide. It’s a shame I can’t peep into her life and see what’s going on anymore, but it’s something I can certainly live without.
I have to ask: What’s the story with sharing passwords? The internet has been present in every relationship I’ve been in since age 15 or so. I’ve never shared a password with anyone, nor had the desire to do so. Why did you?
It’s not the first time I’ve heard of this, I’ve just never understood the reasoning behind why someone would do that, given that human nature is such that if you can read someone’s e-mails, you will. I’d really rather just trust my partner rather than feel the need to verify my trust. Is that a male attitude?
It wasn’t so much a formal swapping of passwords — i.e. “I do promise to have, hold, and protect your password.” Instead, it was a matter of convenience. If one or the other of us was at the computer, we’d say, “Can you check something for me?” And volunteer our password.
In response to another comment. See in context »Gosh, isn’t it nice that in our smartphone era there are fewer circumstances where you’d need to ask someone to do that?
In response to another comment. See in context »I have to second Michael. Passwords are passwords. You should make them complicated and you shouldn’t tell people what they are. You put more than your relationships at risk by doing so. You can put careers at risk and depending on your career, lives. Think of it this way, your password is akin to you identity. By allowing someone to know it, you’re allowing them to assume your identity. Allowing someone to do that is a sign of codependency. I apologize if that sounds brusque, but I take my privacy very seriously.
Anyway, on a lighter note, i.e. digital stalking: I’d have to say that it depends on the ex. I have two exes that I have had no contact with since the end of the relationship and am very content with that situation, two exes that I have a regular and pleasant relationship with, and one that I wish I had a regular and pleasant relationship with, and she’s the one I sometimes look in on in Facebook/Google.
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I’ll bite as well. I am married and my wife knows my passwords to most of my online activity. Bank account she does not know and we do not have a shared account. We do, however, have a shared credit card which we split down the middle at the end of the month. It makes things a lot easier than having a shared bank account, plus we rack up some flying miles. As for ex’s on the Internet, I am friends with most. Facebook made it easier to track them down, but they tracked me down also once I was on there. Personally, even if I am not with the person anymore I like the idea of checking in with/on an ex every once in a while.
Boy, am I glad I married and divorced back in the Dark Ages before Facebook, etc. My ex lives on the other side of the same county and re-married; she’s in my wedding photos as one of his friends, so even old media can offer some emotional pain.
I’m curious about ex’s but not that curious, Maybe it’s generational. If you broke up, it was probably for a good reason. Let sleeping dogs lie.
While I see your desire to let sleeping dogs lie, a lot of checking up on someone is seeking confirmation that you put the right dogs to sleep. It’s certainly narcissistic, but that can have some positive self-reinforcement at weird times in your life.
In response to another comment. See in context »“No ring, no passwords.” I love my wife, but even she does not have my email account password. I never give that out to anyone. That way, I know that activity in my account is either me or a hacker. Eric.
My view on facebook stalking my exes:
I can’t help it. If I think it will bother me to know things about her life, I remove her from my feed, and I rely on my will power to avoid seeing her new pictures or checking on her page. I pretty much only check in when I see her posts on mutual friend’s walls, but I still do it. It showcases the neurotics, but i think that’s the price I’m stuck paying for living in a hyperconnected world.
Regarding passwords:
The only people who have my passwords are friends who live far enough away that I’m pretty sure no romantic entanglement will ever happen. I don’t erase old emails from exes, and I still communicate regularly with my favorite exes (who are some of my closest friends). I try not to date jealous women, but access to 5 years worth of my emails seems like it could be unreasonably tempting.
And having never shared finances or living arrangements with a significant other, I can’t imagine sharing banking info and passwords with anyone yet.
I just read the Times piece this evening and even though I don’t know you that well I couldn’t believe it was you based on the quotes and especially that photo — the digital love victim. I agree with Andrea: It sounds like the reporter had the whole melancholy piece mapped out in her mind in advance. It’s interesting to think how our pre-conceived notions can influence how we take notes.
If it’s any consolation, Kashmir, at least it’s getting harder for reporters to do this without any repercussions. A few years ago misquoted sources had little recourse unless they could prove a factual error. I’ve been ruffled a couple of times by distorted quotations, and sometimes just by very misleading quote selection and what I’ll call context swapping. It was very much a learning experience, as Caitlin said, that made me very sensitive to the plight of sources. On those rare occasions when I’m interviewee rather than interviewer, I prefer email interviews, so everyone has a record. And when it’s by phone, whether or not they tape, I tape.
I am lucky that I have a forum to respond. But at the same time, my article has been viewed 2,000 times while I’m sure the NYT piece has been viewed by many, many multiples of that number of people. And I agree with you on using my own recorder from now on.
In response to another comment. See in context »Here’s the problem: If you actually talk freely to a journalist, you will invariably be misquoted or misinterpreted. (This is why celebrities prefer live TV interviews.) So over the years you become super-cautious and reticent–and end up sounding like a total bore. (And still you’re misinterpreted! Nothing like saying nothing to give the leeway!)
As for the whole web-public breakup–I’m with Caitlin. It’s tough enough to endure, without the world crammed into the room.
off-topic, but is that a super-cool Mancala board in your photo? Being used for loose change and olives?
It is! I got in when I visited Ethiopia.
In response to another comment. See in context »First of all, this piece was really interesting…
As for the Face-stalking, I’ll just say that yep, guys do it, too. Probably more than you’d think – they’re probably just less wiling to admit it. It’s sort of like asking a guy if he’s interested in reading US Weekly. The answer is yes. But the answer they think they’re supposed to give is no because, y’know, assumed gender roles or whatever.
Secondly, I’d just like to point out that as good as this blog was, I’m finding the discussion just as interesting, because (and maybe this has been obvious to everyone and I’m just slow) it seems that the interview wasn’t actually an aside from the main idea at all. As the discussion has shown, whether it’s about relationships or being interviewed, the point is really about the fear that comes from putting yourself out there, and the inevitable (sometimes unexpected) consequences that come from it. Sometimes you think you’ll be quoted accurately, and sometimes you think your heart won’t get broken. Sometimes they happen and sometimes they don’t. The shittest part is that you never know which one’s coming.
p.s. And, either way, the results are very public.
In response to another comment. See in context »Agreed. This whole experience has made me think back on Janet Malcolm’s “Journalist and the Murderer.” Where she compares the journalist-source relationship to the act of seduction. Just as in romantic relationships, the power balance is constantly shifting. During the interview, the source holds the power, but once the journalist sits down to write, that changes.
It’s worth quoting her lead: “Every journalist who is not too stupid or too full of himself to notice what is going on knows that what he does is morally indefensible.”
In response to another comment. See in context »I disagree with Michael’s point about checking up on exe’s, and this sort of easily satisfied curiousity is is clearly generational.
The few times I’ve recycled an ex, it’s clear within a few dates why they were an ex. Now social media, checking in or up on their activities (which is really sort of sad and creepy) can only prolong an attachment that, clearly, wasn’t working for you or them. Watching someone cavort with their new beau/belle proves nothing more than…you didn’t work out. I’m a fan of the surgical cut.
Brings to mind the time I had an intelligent discussion with a Times reporter about a Salon.com story of mine, just to read the next day that the only quote used was something like “I was like, ‘Oh my God,’ said John Gorenfeld.”
Anyone who has ever read the NYT Style section and thought that any of the sources featured there anecdotally are appealing and interesting people and not preening, ultra-middle class idiots hungry for their 15 minutes deserves to be “filleted” there. And — this I find even more startling — you “thought it would be hypocritical for a journalist to abstain from being a source for another journalist”? So you think that because you work in journalism, any time someone else in journalism asks you to go on record about your love life, you are obligated to say yes? Just my opinion of course but you ought to find that point of view more embarrassing than the NYT thing.
If you think it’s tougher breaking up in the digital 21st century world, try breaking up when you live in a small town where everybody knows everybody. The baker and bank teller and waitress all give you the “pitying look” and your ex is escorting the new flame to the same bar or restaurant you have to use if you don’t want to flee your hometown.
That was the reality for a good majority of the population until the mid-20th century. Only when the population began flooding into large cities was it possible to really walk away from your recent past.
If social media are really turning the world back into a small town, the privacy settings and ‘unfriending’ still make it more tolerable than the real ones.
The odd issue here for me is this.
If you really want privacy, get off the Internet, yesterday. You have managed to score 8,000+ views — which seems like a tremendous amount of attention — for complaining on the Internet about some dead-trees attention you didn’t like.
Feels like a hall of mirrors to me.
At least Kashmir controls one of the mirrors, even if it is a smaller one (getting bigger, though).
In response to another comment. See in context »My Facebook page says I’m in a complicated relationship with a certain gal (and she confirmed it for kicks so her name appears in my profile info). I’m not. In fact, the girl I’m seeing in real life isn’t even my friend on Facebook.
I’m shocked that so many men, according to Holson, refused to talk about their private lives. I have absolutely no problems dishing dirty details to someone I trust. If it’s someone I don’t know, I’ll still talk about it if they really want to know, but I’ll exercise a little more discretion.
I need to read through all these comments to see if anyone else asked, but I have a problem with impulsivity so I’m asking now – then reading.
I read that article, and that quote did seem strange. I would not worry about those that know you. They probably know you don’t talk/think that way.
As someone who doesn’t know you, I have to ask, especially since you write about PRIVACY issues…Why on EARTH did you and your boyfriend share passwords? I’ve never heard of such a thing, except maybe couples who wear matching shirts and things like that or have a joint Facebook page.
Why, even if you could , would you read a letter he wrote to his Mother?
I’m not lecturing here – but I really was intrigued by that.
That being said, this is something all journalists need to remember. These are real people they’re quoting. They need to think about how they’d feel.
I am sorry it happened to you – but by writing about how you felt you did a service and made good out of bad – and I commend you for that.
I have never shared passwords in a relationship again. It was a matter of convenience (as I mention in a comment farther up the stream). As for reading that particular email, it was a result of my shameless snooping/curiosity. I saw an email with my name in the subject line, and couldn’t stop myself from reading it.
In response to another comment. See in context »I believe you said elsewhere on this site that you have Google Voice. If you want to prevent this again in the future, insist on a phone interview and just press 4 to record the call. That way if a dispute arises, you can post the MP3 and hold them accountable.
This is fantastic advice.
In response to another comment. See in context »kashmir hill, i’d like to buy you dinner and give you my password
[...] – photographed by the Times inside what appears to be a Museum of Natural History exhibit (bizarre Times photo number two last week) – the result are impressive: they’ve lost fat, muscled up and [...]
It seems as though most of the posts in this thread are from journalists, so my perspective as a non-journalist might interest you all: On the subject of Kashmir being upset about being misquoted, every news account (OK, maybe almost every account) of events with which I have had some familiarity has been distorted, so I read everything with skepticism.
I imagine that many people who are like me (notice the gray beard) share my skepticism, especially about those anecdotal articles.
Regarding your question about men possibly being more reluctant to talk publicly about their personal lives, I am reluctant to talk publicly about anything, based on the above.
This reminds me of the story a friend told me about how he had been so baffled by a recent ex’ dumping that he stewed and stewed and even tried guessing her email password to find out if there had been someone else.
“You got in, I take it.”
“How’d you know?”
“Because for that crime, the only proper punishment is success.”
[...] Breaking Up In A Digital Fishbowl, Revisited. (Or: How The New “No ring, no passwords.” I love my wife, but even she does not have my email account p… [...]
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Breaking up in a digital fishbowl, revisited. (Or: How the New York Times filleted me on the front page of the Style section) – Kashmir Hill – The Not-So Private Parts – True/Slant…