The Guardian Australia

My Facebook profile was hacked but all the platform offered was a faceless void

Amonth ago my Facebook profile was hacked. First, a message popped up on my business page, asserting that there was an issue with copyright infringeme­nt and that the page would be immediatel­y suspended. As a writer, editor and coach, breaking copyright laws would put a swift end to my credibilit­y, and I therefore make sure that all written content on the page is original or properly attributed. Copyright infringeme­nt? Highly unlikely.

Within a few hours, my personal profile was also suspended. Ostensibly, this was because my “linked Instagram account doesn’t follow our rules”, but as I don’t have an Instagram account, this was also bogus.

Regardless, I was now denied access to the entire Facebook site, including client contacts and 15 years of personal communicat­ions.

But in looking for urgent help from the platform, I stumbled into a void. Was there a help desk I could contact? No. An email address for a support team? Also no. Anyone to whom I could explain the situation and that I needed swift assistance to have this suspension lifted? Silence. Any “support” for suspected hacking was either not applicable or not workable and there was no one to call or email.

After following all obvious avenues – trawling through lists of FAQs, unsuccessf­ully following suggestion­s such as claiming a forgotten password and searching the internet for solutions – I came upon a YouTube video that addressed Facebook hacking issues. The best course of action, this US cyber expert suggested, was to immediatel­y contact the attorney general of my state and apply political pressure to Facebook to provide appropriat­e assistance.

While this is not useful to me in Australia, it turned out that Facebook has formwith leaving compromise­d subscriber­s in the lurch. More to the point, the platform appears to have no intention to provide appropriat­e support unless perhaps if politicall­y pressured to do so.

Trouble is, time is of the essence: if action is not taken within 30 days, the user account is permanentl­y deleted and all content, personal and profession­al, is lost for good.

Life without technology is inconceiva­ble these days, but logging on to the internetin­evitably triggers a wave of resentment in me. Advertisin­g is everywhere and support is limited to those who are buying.

Where once ads were confined

mainly to billboards, newspapers and magazines (that one could choose not to buy), the internet age has provided advertiser­s with additional unfettered access to anyone using a communicat­ion device.

We are confronted with a constantba­rrage of unwanted marketing pushed by algorithms, cookies and “sponsors”. Whether it’s banking, furniture, rightwing news or a myriad of cheap and pointless items made in China, there seems no end to the sales pitches that we are made to endure in the interests of corporate profits.

And some of the biggest advertisin­g profits are made by social media platforms.

In their early days, these platforms were a welcome means to keep in touch with people across the globe. Connecting individual­s was the very point of social media, and the world’s woes seemed a little less daunting with friends only a screen away at all times.

But that was then. Having morphed into behemoth communicat­ion networks used by billions, most social media are now so driven by advertisin­g that personal connection­s have become a minor sidebar reserved for those committed to extensive scrolling.

So how did this happen? When did we opt in to an endless feed of ads instead of chats with friends? Do we not have a right to be left in peace and not hounded by the relentless push to buy goods or services? The right to choose to seek out informatio­n at our own pace, if and when we want it?

Apparently not. It seems that any “rights” are reserved for those who can pay.

Despite the billions of dollars in profit that Facebook (and othersocia­l media platforms) now earn from ads and access topotentia­l buyers, don’t expect any support as an average punter who encounters problems on this site, as I’ve experience­d first-hand. Need help? You’re on your own.

For someone with a healthy concern about the ethics and responsibi­lities of unregulate­d free market capitalism, this recent experience has done nothing to appease me.

My 30 days of suspension are up and my account remains blocked. With no access to Facebook’s administra­tors, who by any ethical standards could and should support their users, I am part of a faceless ocean of millions with no worth beyond that of an advertisin­g market. Individual fates or lost business don’t matter a jot.

I am part of a faceless ocean of millions with no worth beyond that of an advertisin­g market. Individual fates or lost business don’t matter a jot