After years of threatening my digital self with drunken tirades, and passionate sermons against inherently anti-social behaviors, I've finally done it - I killed my Facebook Profile. Read on to see why I made the decision, how I did it, and the aftermath of my public display of digital murder.

Why should you delete your Facebook profile?

Here's the questionnaire I prepared to help me make this decision to euthanize my primary social media platform:

Why do I want a Facebook profile?

THEN: I want to reach out to old friends, classmates, etc...  in the easiest way possible. Oh, and check-up on all of my ex-girlfriends and former crushes. Also, I hear you can make money with Facebook. That would be cool.

NOW: I don't want to reach out to old friends the easiest way possible. I want to hang out with them and make some memories the old-fashioned way. And I hate myself for my ridiculously anti-social, creepy leanings towards digital stalkery

Why do I need a Facebook account?

THEN: Some of my friends insist that Facebook is the only way to get in contact with them. That, and I have over a dozen Facebook Business Pages that I manage for clients that are linked to my profile.

NOW: Any friend insisting on Facebook is likely just avoiding a face-to-face smackdown for not showing up to my birthday party. And last I checked, all of my friends have cellphones and email addresses. Oh, and Seth is managing our clients' business pages.

What kind of "social" do I really want?

THEN: I love conversation of all kinds. Having lots of friends, in-person and digitally, makes me feel cool, and connected and popular.

NOW: I prefer in-person conversations on a dirty porch with a cold beer. And anyone not willing to participate in an epic porch hang with me is not a real friend. 

What kind of "social" do I really need?

THEN: I need to make myself available to all types to help them solve problems of the marketing or business variety.

NOW: High quality relationships, with a small amount of people. My relatively small group of real friends (maybe 20 total) have earned my time, not flicking a like button on a posted photo to show them how much I care.

What's the worse that could happen if I delete my Facebook account?

THEN: My clients may get pissed. I'll lose money. I'll lose friends. I'll lose social status (remember Klout?).

NOW:  My clients may be pissed. I might lose money. I might lose friends. I'll certainly lose social status. But I can replace the time spent maintaining a hundreds of diluted relationships, with forging relationships with like minded people - new clients, and new friends. Better clients. Better friends.

Okay. So how do I delete my Facebook profile?

"Show, don't tell ... Characters are not what they say, they are what they do." - John Jacobsen, Story Expert, Screenwriter

Scroll down for annotated screenshots of each step.

1) Let your friends know

This can take awhile ... I whittled down my friends to 98 by the time I got around to deleting the account. It still took over 30-minutes.

This can take awhile ... I whittled down my friends to 98 by the time I got around to deleting the account. It still took over 30-minutes.

2) Backup your account. Directions here:





Hell if I know what I'll do with this. Imagine someone will make a digital scrapbooking ap that will handle these files.

Hell if I know what I'll do with this. Imagine someone will make a digital scrapbooking ap that will handle these files.

3) Delete your account.




4) Don't freak out. You will get a slew of 'oh-shit' emails, especially if you played around with any of Facebook's integration tools on your website. Thankfully we already had workarounds in place for all of these.



5) Become a human again

What happens after I delete my Facebook profile?

 Other than some system generated emails (see above) and the loss of any "Login with Facebook" integrations, not much.

In my case, I got two emails from Facebook friends who congratulated me on my move to California ... even though it happened over a year ago 😉


Well that's it for today. Time to turn off my laptop and go eat some grub with one of my real friends. Cheers!

Commandment 2: Pursue the Human Connection


There's a lot of paranoia flying around currently.  The news has covered it and moved on already, but everyone's deepest insecurities love to be reminded that the government is still tapping into phone lines and, yes, combing the web, extracting all our vital data.  We know they aren't the only ones doing it, either.  I love Google and their many innovative products, but they've got to know enough about me to write my biography already.

So why don't they?  

Aside from the fact that doing so would be admitting that they're watching us (cue spooky music), it occurs to me that not many folks would want to read my biography.  It's probably too eclectic to hold anyone's interest for long, plus there's not enough rock and roll.

On the other hand, maybe my biography as written by Google would be mildly interesting.  There are a lot of Seths in the world, and the search engine robots can't always tell them apart.  My biography according to Google would probably begin with an overview of my contributions to the field of Chemistry, my experience with Ruby programming, and then get into the more popular stuff like how I created "Family Guy", or jump-started my acting career when I played a sensitive stoner on "Freaks and Geeks".  

None of that stuff is true, by the way.  Might make for a fun episode of "To Tell The Truth" though.

Somehow, while details of the real Seth Rasmussen (sorry dudes) are embedded in that Google search, they're just details.  Having those details, with no context, doesn't give you the power to influence me.  Sorry Google, but half your ads are inane and the other half are too obnoxious to take seriously.

Do you see what I'm getting at here?  

I'm not saying that you shouldn't be paranoid about web surveillance or what have you. I'm not going to preach one way or another. All I'm saying is that for all the data at its disposal, Google is at a loss with what to do with little old me.

All they have is info provided by robots chasing my shadow.

On the other hand, the folks at the coffee shop down the street from my place know just a little more about me than this short list:

I suppose they could tell you my credit card number if asked, though please don't.  These folks have earned themselves a long term customer through a few seemingly small acts:

Also, the fact they don't try to imitate Starbucks is a godsend.  And once a year, on the anniversary of their opening for business, they have a small party and invite their customers.  Live music + beer + cake = lifetime customers.  I don't even like cake, which is another thing they now know about me, but getting invited to a private party after hours was totally cool.

So what's the point here?

Well for one, not everyone who showed up to the private party was a regular.  Aside from inviting folks personally from the store, they also invited folks who like their Facebook page.  That is a point of data that provides you with some kind of information: they have been to the coffee shop (at least once) or they love German bakeries/coffee shops enough to like one without having ever been there.  Rather than contain their interaction with these less-than-regulars purely to a digital platform, they used that connection/info to get real folks out to an enjoyable evening.  An evening that left an impression.  Through their party, they turned one evening into a room full of repeat customers.

I was able to thank them in person for this event, which I did more than once.  Google has never invited me to any parties, and doesn't have a face, so even if I was invited to a Google party, I'd be forced to express my gratitude through an email like this one:

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

SUBJECT: Great party!

Dear Google,

I have gotten quite familiar with your robots, spiders, and data farmers.  I wish I could say I knew them on a first name basis, but I believe you consider that proprietary information.  

Anyhow, it's nice to know that you watch over me, care about my browsing and spending habits, and guide the adolescent internet from somewhere shadowy and mysterious.  Also the party was awesome.  But for the love of all that is holy, stop with the ads for Freshbooks at the bottom of every email I receive.  I already use Freshbooks, and I swear on the aforementioned holy everything that I will never EVER click on that ad. Doesn't matter if it's a picture of a cute kitten, full season of Doctor Who on DVD, whatever.  I'm not buying it.  

Please knock it off, and have a great day.

Thanks again!

-Seth Rasmussen

See the rest of the commandments here:

10th Commandment - Be Human

9th Commandment -  Leave No Interaction on the Table

8th Commandment -  Remain Relevant

7th Commandment -  Rock Your Niche

6th Commandment -  Get Uncomfortable

5th Commandment -  Don't Dilute

4th Commandment - Practice Confident Exclusion

3rd Commandment - Don't Rush

2nd Commandment - Pursue the Human Connection

1st Commandment - wouldn't you like to know 😉 Get notified by signing-up here for our monthly newsletter 

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