How many birthdays would you like this year?

I sent two birthday greetings yesterday; one to my brother and another to a friend of the last ten years or so. My brother’s birthday I tend to remember; for my friend’s I count on my Mac calendar to remind me.

Coincidentally, I was listening to the Slate Political Gabfest last night and David Plotz talked about a Facebook experiment he conducted. He opened his online profile in late June and changed his birthday from its true January date to July 11. Once that day passed he changed it again to July 25 and after that one more time to July 28. You can read his Slate piece here.

The results were fascinating, and, sadly, all too predictable. 119 “friends” sent David birthday greetings by the end of July 11. 105 friends did the same two weeks later on July 25. Of those, 45 were the same people! 45 of David’s “friends” either forgot that he had seemingly had a birthday just two weeks before or simply sent their impersonal greeting off without a conscious thought.

Three days later there was a precipitous drop in his birthday wishes; this time only 71 people wished him well. Still, almost 30 people repeated their salutations of only three or seventeen days prior.

This interesting, though – yes, I will admit – irritating, experiment strengthens my own antipathy toward the global friend maker that is Facebook. Again by coincidence this all happened 48 hours after I finally got around to watching The Social Network, David Fincher’s brilliant biopic on Mark Zuckerberg and the early days of The Facebook -- later, Facebook. The move made me like Facebook even less.

For my money, Facebook trivializes one of the finest gifts humanity has ever received: friendship. Plotz has 1,557 “friends,” but he admits he’s only met perhaps 200 of them. Even I, a card-carrying curmudgeon, have 71 Facebook friends  -- a paltry number by online standards – but I would claim true “friendship” with perhaps 20 of them.

I cherish my true friends. Rick has been a dear friend since the late 50s, Elaine since 1963 and Don since 1965. Other friends form the backbone of my life and are very dear to me: John (1966), David (1967), Tom (1968), Malette (1979), Darrin (1983) and many more since then. To go on Facebook and “friend” a thousand or more people cheapens the meaning of the word and the nature of the experience.

Thanks, Mr. Plotz, for cleverly showing us the banal nature of Facebook.