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Coming Your Way... Less Intrusive Facebook Data Policies?
ainandil writes "Facebook may have to alter its data use policy now that grassrooters have driven enough complaints about the company's proposed data usage policy to trigger a user vote on the matter. 'Facebook's proposed changes to its data use policy include new explanations of its data deletion practices as well as the controls that users have over the sharing of information with third-party applications. However, 47,824 users commented on the plans with many posting opposition to the planned new terms and instead calling for the chance to vote on the "demands" outlined by Europe-v-Facebook.' Does this mean the days of the man-in-the-middle attack as social media are numbered?"
About eight months ago, I was searching around the internet to find out why my computer was running so slowly (it normally ran quite fast, but had gradually gotten slower over time). After a few minutes, I found a piece of software claiming that it could speed up my PC and make it run like new again. Being that I was dangerously ignorant about technology in general (even more so than I am now), I downloaded the software and began the installation. Mere moments after doing so, my desktop background image was changed and warnings that appeared to originate from Windows appeared all over the screen telling me to buy strange software from an unknown company in order to remove a virus it claimed I had.
I may have been ignorant about technology, but I wasn't that naive. I immediately concluded that the software I'd downloaded was, in fact, a virus. In my rage, I broke numerous objects, punched a hole in the wall, and cursed the world at the top of my lungs. I eventually calmed down, cleared my head, and realized that the only remedy for this problem was a carefully thought out plan. After a few moments of pondering about how to handle this situation, I decided that since I barely knew how to properly handle a computer, I should turn it over to the professionals and let them fix the issue.
Soon after making the decision, I drove to a local computer repair shop and entered the building with my computer in hand. They greeted me with a smile and stayed attentive the entire time that I was explaining the problem to them. They laughed as if they'd heard it all before, told me that I'm not the only one who has trouble operating computers, and then gave me a date for when the computer would be fixed. Not only had they told me that the computer would be completely repaired in at most two days, but the price for their services was surprisingly low, and to top it all off, they even gave me advice for how to avoid viruses in the future! I left the building feeling confident in my decision to seek professional help and satisfied knowing that such kind-hearted people were the ones doing the job.
The very next day, I received a phone call from the computer repair shop whilst I was at a local library researching computer viruses. I had stumbled upon a piece of software that appeared to be very promising, and I was about to do more research on it, but seeing as how I required my computer as soon as possible, I decided to put the matter on hold. Upon answering the phone and cheerfully greeting the person on the other end, I was greeted with a high-pitched shriek. Startled, I asked what was wrong. A few moments passed where nothing was said, and suddenly, the person on the other end said to me, in a low voice oozing with paranoia, "Come pick up your computer." They hung up immediately after saying that, and I couldn't help but notice that they sounded as if they were on the verge of tears. I briefly wondered if it was due to stress from work, and then drove to the computer repair shop to acquire my computer.
I was positively dismayed upon entering the building. The inside of the computer repair shop looked nothing like the image from my memories. There were broken computer parts scattered throughout the room, ceiling tiles all over the floor, blood splattered in every direction I looked, and even a human toe on the ground. After processing this disturbing information, I began panicking and frantically looking around for my computer. I spotted an employee covered in blood sitting up against the wall, and noticed that his wrists had been slashed open. Thinking quickly, I ran up to him, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, shook him around, and began screaming, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?" After a moment of silence, he passed away, completely shattering my expectations. "What a meaningless individual," I thought.
Enraged, I tore the building up even further than it already had been in my desperate search for my computer. Eventually I discovered a door leading to an area that was normally only accessible
Around a year ago, I was mindlessly surfing the internet (as I often do) when I came across an enigmatic web page. The page, which looked like a warning from my web browser, informed me that I had a virus installed on my computer and that to fix it, I should install a strange anti-virus program that I'd never heard of (which I found peculiar considering the fact that I already had anti-virus software installed on my computer). Despite having reservations about installing it, I did so anyway (since it appeared to be a legitimate warning).
I cannot even fathom what I was thinking at that time. Soon after attempting to install the so-called anti-virus software, my desktop background image changed into a large red warning sign, warnings about malware began making appearances all over the screen, and a strange program I'd never seen before began nagging me to buy a program to remove the viruses. What should have been obvious previously then became clear to me: that software was a virus. Frustrated by my own stupidity, I began tossing objects around the room and cursing at no one in particular.
After I calmed down, I reluctantly took my computer to a local PC repair shop and steeled myself for the incoming fee. When I entered, I noticed that there were four men working there, and all of them seemed incredibly nice (the shop itself was clean and stylish, too). After I described the situation to them, they gave me a big smile (as if they'd seen and heard it all before), accepted the job, and told me that the computer would be working like new again in a few days. At the time, I was confident that their words held a great degree of truth to them.
The very next day, while I was using a local library's computer and browsing the internet, I came across a website dedicated to a certain piece of software. It claimed that it could fix up my PC and make it run like new again. I knew, right then, merely from viewing a single page on the website, that it was telling the truth. I cursed myself for not discovering this excellent piece of software before I had taken my PC to the PC repair shop. "It would've saved me money. Oh, well. I'm sure they'll get the job done just fine. I can always use this software in the future to conserve money." Those were my honest thoughts at the time.
Two days later, my phone rang after I returned home from work. I immediately was able to identify the number: it was the PC repair shop's phone number. Once I answered, something strange occurred; the one on the other end of the line spoke, in a small, tormented voice, "Return. Return. Return. Return. Return." No matter what I said to him, he would not stop repeating that one word. Unsettled by this odd occurrence, I traveled to the PC repair shop to find out exactly what happened.
Upon arriving inside the building, I looked upon the shop, which was a shadow of its former self, in shock. There were countless wires all over the floor, smashed computer parts scattered in every direction I looked, fallen shelves on the ground, desks flipped over on the ground, and, to make matters even worse, there was blood splattered all over the wall. Being the reasonable, upstanding, college-educated citizen that I was, I immediately concluded that the current state of the shop was due to none other than an employee's stress from work. I looked around a bit more, spotted three bodies sitting against the wall, and in the middle of the room, I spotted my computer. "Ah. There it is." Directly next to it was the shop's owner, sitting on the ground in the fetal position.
When I questioned him, he kept repeating a single thing again and again: "Cannot be stopped! Cannot be stopped! Cannot be stopped!" I could not get him to tell me what was wrong, but after a bit of pondering, I quickly figured out precisely what happened: they were unable to fix my computer like they had promised. Disgusted by their failure, I turned to the shop's owner (who I now noticed had a gun to his head), and spat in his general direction. I then turned my back to him as
This could well be history in the making, as citizens from around the world take part in the first electronic, democratic vote.
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Well, to begin, I'm just your average guy. But unlike your average guy, I once had everything anyone could ever want: a gorgeous wife, a beautiful two-story house, an adorable seven year old daughter, a stable job, and a nice salary. Basically, I was living the American dream. None of my needs or wants were left unfulfilled. The family always got along, and everything was perfect.
Until one day, that is. Following one of my routine doctor appointments, my doctor informed me that I had lung cancer and that I only had a few years to live at most. As you can imagine, I was shocked. Not just shocked; I could see all of my hopes and dreams being shattered right before my very eyes. Still, my doctor gave me hope by telling me that there was a chance, however slim, that Chemotherapy and various other things could help me. After speaking with my wife, I decided to receive the treatments.
All was not lost. I still had a perfect family that I could rely on and get emotional support from. I still had hope for the future. I'm a firm believer that you should make the best of things rather than wallow in depression. I had to press on: not just for my sake, but for the sake of my loved ones. But my strong resolve was soon shattered.
The family I thought I could count on betrayed me. My wife, whom I loved deeply, filed for a divorce. She said that she could not handle the emotional trauma of being with someone who had cancer. She apologized profusely, but no matter what I said, I could not change her mind. I screamed, I cried, and I begged her to rethink her decision, but it was all to no avail.
In my madness, I made all kinds of accusations. I said that she was cheating on me, that she never loved me, that she just married me for my money, and various other things. I soon learned, however, that a few of those were more than just baseless accusations. I began stalking her, going through all of her personal possessions, and trying uncover any secrets she may have been keeping. What I discovered horrified me: she had been cheating on me with another man for the past year. She must have been waiting for an opportune time to abandon me for this other man.
When confronted about her betrayal, she screamed at me, told me it was none of my business, told me that I was always a worthless husband, and told me that I was an abusive man. I soon discovered that there was absolutely nothing that I could do. My marriage was in shambles, and by this point, I was on the brink of suicide. The only thing keeping me going was my devotion to my precious daughter.
It wasn't long before I received news from my insurance company that they were getting rid of my coverage. They gave me multitudes of vague and bogus reasons, but anyone could figure out their true reason: they did not want to waste money on a dying man. Naturally, I planned to fight this with every fiber of my being, but I knew it would be a long, drawn out process.
In the span of a year, I went from a very happy man who had everything he wanted to a miserable shell of what I once was. I couldn't take it anymore. Despite the fact that I wanted to remain in this world for the sake of my daughter, I tried committing suicide four times. All four attempts failed. I needed something to take my misery, regret, and anger out on. First I began verbally abusing my daughter. It wasn't long before I began physically abusing her. Sometimes I did it with my bare hands, and other times I used various objects. Beating my daughter soon became my only pleasure. My life had spiraled out of control into a den of anguish, uncertainty, and madness.
That's when it happened: I found MyCleanPC. I downloaded it, scanned my computer, and had it fix all of my problems. MyCleanPC is outstanding! My computer is running faster than ever!
My wife's response? "MyCleanPC came through with flying colours where no one else could!"
My daughter was absolutely overjo
no one's going back to that crap. enjoy your 740 million mister jewkerberg
Lets say, i publish something under these terms, then they change them again. of course they are not allowed to use the old material under the new terms without my consent, but i would assume they do it anyway. 99,99% of all people will not notice, the rest will not sue. And if i would like to sue them for doing so, i do not think there will be a good chance to win against a big corporation like facebook.
So, as long as they try to cover it for most of us with new terms and implied consent, there will be never enough users going to court to stop them from changing their mind every other time.
Until ./ develop a fire army to defend against the chinese water army, this shit will be completely unusable.
If you mod me down the terrorists will have won
Expect absolutely nothing more than We The People-style "binding" action if things even get that far. This is Facebook--they're not the judge or the jury, they are the criminal.
That said, I'd love for the third-to-last point in the proposal to be approved, for this to get Like buttons to finally be neutered (i.e. wiped off the net, or turned into non-tracking thingers, or something like that). Then I'd only block Facebook with (e.g.) avast or AdBlock instead of at the h...is that guy that rambles on and on about that file around...no?--what? Oh, you said "Don't know"? Ah. Anyway...the file with the names and number thingies! Yeah, at that level.
You can hold down the "B" button for continuous firing.
Facebook's stock is nosediving. And since it is now a public company the stockholders will be demanding to see profits.
Why would they shoot themselves in the foot with these data policies? It isn't as if their current policies have caused a mass exodus. And there really isn't any major competition on the horizon.
I'm guessing this is just smoke and mirrors.
No way 30% of all "active" users are going to vote, unless they are made to by Facebook (the party that has most to lose)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKOk4Y4inVY
After the IPO fiasco I expect Facebook to eventually go the way of Myspace. Can't wait for Google+ to suffer the same fate if only so that Vic Gundotra gets sacked for being a useless clown.
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Sundar Pichai is the utter asshole whose incompetence has resulted in the shutdown of Google's Atlanta office.
When I send a text-message to a bunch of friends using my mobile phone via my telco, the telco is certainly not allowed to inspect the contents of the message, let alone to share it directly or indirectly with 3rd parties, such as advertisers.
Now in many ways, facebook is similar to a telco. On facebook I'm also sending messages to other people, only usually these messages are sent to more than one person, but the group of people is still restricted (to my friends).I think we may rightfully ask why facebook and other social media companies are able to give themselves the right to share and sell contentual data that is targeted at a restricted group of people.
In fact, I think there should be a law that states that any data send through a communications facilitator (telco or social media company or otherwise) that is directed to a RESTRICTED group of people, should be treated as confidential.
If Pandora's box is destined to be opened, *I* want to be the one to open it.
You pay your phone service provider $X per month for the use of their network. Your telco has little reason to inspect your data, they're already making money from everyone's monthly bills (that being said, don't give them any ideas).
You pay Facebook with your privacy and, at this point, no one would be willing to pay for it with actual money. Such a law would surely be Facebook's doom, and that's all anyone would take away from it. Would you want to be the congressman who killed Facebook?
Don't get me wrong, I agree with you. I detest the way Facebook operates; it's underhanded, dishonest and creepy.
There needs to be a new model, but you're not paying with money or privacy, what else is there?
We have one freedom left to us: the freedom to choose.
We can choose to accept the terms that come with using a service such as Facebook, with the understanding that they operate for profit and they can use our data to achieve that end. Or, we can choose not to use Facebook and deprive them and their shareholders of that revenue - which in all fairness, is a pittance when counted individually; there are idiots who will click on every ad and buy everything that's shoved in front of them, and that collective revenue potential is what makes Facebook worth more than the global wheat industry.
CHOICE. It is our last remaining personal freedom. USE IT OR LOSE IT.
Operation Guillotine is in effect.
i have no idea what the last sentence in the summary is supposed to mean..but it seem internally contradictory
Wasn't there a slew of projects to replace Facebook with a distributed privacy model few years ago? Most people were hyped up about Diaspora, but that thing can't even provide a properly working UI yet.
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