If you follow me on LinkedIn, you’re probably aware that Facebook told me to get f*cked.

So yeah. That’s what this week’s newsletter is about.

But it’s not what you think.

👉 Know when you’re product — not the customer.

👉 And then f*cking plan for it.

And now — the story behind why this advice matters. 👇

I joined Facebook in 2006 — back in the days when they only served college kids, and required a “.edu” email address to register. 

My Myspace profile was pimpin’, but my friends were all getting on this new Facebook thing, and just as Zuck predicted in his wet dreams, I wanted to be where my friends were.

Social media was in its infancy. All of my posts began with “Kristin is…”, because that was the universal prompt. I took photos with a digital camera, and uploaded them into albums. This was my very first one:

Since then, Facebook has been my life’s repository. A live journal of my travels, my jobs, and my relationships.

For 20 goddamn years.

It’s been a while since I’ve regularly posted or scrolled on Facebook. I haven’t had the main Facebook app on my phone for over a year (only the Messenger app). But like a closet you rarely rifle through, my memories hang there, awaiting my occasional visits to collect an aged photo from a trip to Fiji, or remind myself of the dates of that one project, or message a bygone friend I haven’t spoken to in years.

That is, until last Sunday.

I noticed a notification on the Facebook Messenger app, so I clicked it, and saw that I was logged out. When I attempted to log back in, I was hit with this:

So I moseyed over to my computer and tried to login from my desktop browser, only to be met with this:

Um. WTF.

I peeked at my email, an account I only use for iTunes, Facebook, and a few other tech relics, and saw that I had been emailed by Meta three times that morning:

I received an email from Instagram notifying me of unusual login activity — from Indonesia. At first I thought, “what the hell are you talking about?” because I don’t have an Instagram account. 

Then I saw that it was an old business handle I had deactivated years ago. When I had gone to delete it entirely, Meta was like “nooooo, don’t delete it, just deactivate it so you don’t lose everything”, and I was like “yeah ok fine whatever”.

So there it sat. For years. Patiently awaiting an Indonesian hacker to nose his way in, and make mayhem.

Another email landed in my inbox, this time from Facebook. 

Once the hacker got in there, I guess he started doing hacker shit (I dunno, I was asleep), so this email notified me that Facebook was suspending my account based on suspicious activity, and I had 30 days to re-verify (i.e. get the hacker out and get my house in order).

In the third email, this time from Meta Support, I was informed my account had been permanently disabled, with no option to appeal the decision. 

You read that correctly. They permanently disabled my account one whole minute after suspending me for suspicious activity, and giving me 30 days to get the hacker out and re-verify my account.

This hacker, who doesn’t have access to my email, backup email, phone, fingerprint, or any of the other ways I authenticate my accounts, likely just hit an “appeal this decision” button within the app he was now locked out of.

And without utilizing any of the authentication functions I have set up to avoid shit like this, Facebook just said “you’re outta here”, and permanently shut down my 20-year-old account —in 60 seconds or less— with no available recourse.

Nevermind that I was an OG Facebook adopter, and remained in good standing for 20 years until some bozo from Indonesia started messing around.

Nevermind that I had administered Facebook groups with thousands of members.

Nevermind that I had even run Meta ads for some of my previous businesses, spending tens of thousands of dollars in Meta’s ad network over the years.

It all seems ludicrous. And I’m pissed, of course. But not at Meta.

I’m pissed at myself.

I knew this was going to happen, one way or another, and I didn’t take the steps I should’ve to prepare for it.

I had heaps of old photos that only lived on Facebook, and while I was able to download them (something I doubted would actually work), they’re super low resolution.

I also have many friends from all over the world whose only contact details I have are Facebook messenger. So now I must figure out how to reach them and collect emails and phone numbers (don’t even get me started on how much I also rely on WhatsApp — another Meta company.)

But the reason I’m mad at myself is because I’ve known since the early days of social media that I am not a customer of these platforms—

I am their product.

It’s not unusual for budding entrepreneurs to “pick my brain” about two product types I have experience building:

And the first thing I reveal during these discussions is how damn difficult it is to build, launch, and operate a platform where the customer is also the product.

Imagine a community product, like a professional trade association, mastermind, or networking group. The reason customers buy this product (or “join” — to use more appropriate nomenclature) is to gain access to other customers. 

It’s the same thing with a two-sided marketplace. Imagine Uber for a moment — the riders are the products that the drivers “buy”, and the drivers are the products that the riders “buy”. Uber’s technology and infrastructure merely facilitates the connection of these two groups. The business doesn’t exist without fervid engagement from each.

And building these types of companies is hard as shit, because: 

It’s a dystopian mind-f*ck.

(Side note — one conversation I often have with entrepreneurs who own SaaS companies, agencies, media companies, and other digital or service-based businesses is “I want to build a community add-on”, thinking they can just spin up a community product as a side project. This is usually a terrible idea for many reasons, and deserves an entire issue of Drunk Business Advice. Don’t worry, I’ll write it soon.)

But social media is different.

With communities and two-sided marketplaces, the user is both a customer and a product. With social media, the user is just a product — who thinks they’re a customer.

Social media companies don’t directly sell you anything. You are not paying a fee to use the platform. And as a user of Facebook or Instagram, you are not buying products or services from Meta.

Their business model relies on their ability to monetize you. They are selling you to advertisers. Which means if you are no longer monetizable to them, they have zero reason to keep you on their platform.

This is what I suspect happened to me. 

The AI agent that reviewed my profile wasn’t evaluating my long-standing reputation for not scamming, spamming, smearing, stalking, or generally being a shithead on the platform. No — it was evaluating the fact that I no longer scroll, so it hasn’t been able to serve me ads in a long damn time.

Facebook was storing 20 years worth of my photos, videos, messages, and posts on their servers — for free.

The AI looked at that and said, “It's time to clean out this shit.” 

And honestly? I don’t blame them. Because I agreed to play their game. I’m the one who knew I wasn’t paying them. They were storing all this stuff for me in exchange for my activity on the platform. So when that activity ceased, they needed to offload the storage overhead.

It was only a matter of time.

Putting personal use aside for a moment, please raise your hand if you utilize organic social media to market or operate your business. 🙋

The same thing can happen to you at any moment — with much bigger consequences.

Do you have years of reviews on your social media business page? Do you have a business model that directly monetizes your followers? Do you leverage tools like Facebook Groups or WhatsApp Communities to operate your business?

Remember — you’re not social media’s customer. You’re their product. And over-reliance on these “free” tools can absolutely screw you. 

Imagine taking all of your physical assets to a stranger who says: “Hey pal, I’ll store this for you, no charge. Just sign a contract that says I can take it all whenever I feel like it, and you can’t ever get it back.”

This is what’s happening to your digital assets on social media.

Now — I’m certainly not advocating that you keep your business off social media. It’s an astonishingly powerful tool. It’s culturally ubiquitous. And frankly, it’s pretty damn necessary for most businesses.

But ask yourself what would happen if it all went away tomorrow. Are your assets saved? Do you have operational backups? Are your customer relationships portable? Is your brand discoverable outside of social media?

Let my personal tragedy be your business wakeup call. Go work that shit out.

Godspeed.

Cheers! 🍻

-Kristin :-)

P.S. — I don’t just write Drunk Business Advice — I bring it to life on stage. And I’d love to speak at your next event. Hit reply or click here to learn more.