Like to ‘like’ a ‘dislike’?
The question is: Do you like the ubiquitous ‘like’? The facebook ‘like’ button has revolutionized the way we like all and sundry things. ‘Thumbs up’ seems to be the new thumb rule. It’s one thing to genuinely like something and want to establish a connection, it’s quite another to prove your love with a blithe click of a button. The ‘like’ phenomenon has thrown up interesting aspects about human nature; the end is often more important than the means. We like to like ends that can justify (nullify) the means and choose not to like the means that are a far cry from what we like but take us to the end we like, notwithstanding.
It brings me back to the question in question: How many of us have actually liked the ‘like’ button on facebook? Is it turning out to be an unlikely necessary evil? If popularity is anything to go by , the like button that enables us like various things has actually been liked fewer times than we would really have liked to like it. The realization may not have dawned or the fact that we don’t have to like something to use it frequently, has cast its imperious shadow.
While supporting the cause of infusing endorsements into the mainstream that’s up for grabs, the ‘like’ button has taken on a sense of ‘pro‘ness for community pages, eating into the shelves of a healthy consumerism. In some instances, indiscretion marries impertinence leading to sore encounters. The contention that a generally accepted bad thing can also be likeable goes to show that every single entity is put to the popularity test and stands a fair chance. Everything is likeable until proven otherwise through a report (facebook) and due action taken.
We grow in magnanimity of free-will as we learn to commend the real value of the virtual world and wield our lovable clicks to spread some love .It implicitly tells us that the extent of our love may vary but if you like something to even the least degree on your scale of ‘like-worthiness’, you might as well choose to like it. Upon which, you might be influenced to like it even more than you already like it (no, this doesn’t transform into virtual ‘love’) or hate the like that generated the hatred and ‘unlike’ it, as the case may be.
‘Likes’ have the potential of foisting on us a wide range of motley issues that keep us in the loop. It’s a propagation that pandemically creates and defines the bubble we concede to live in, as we rise up to the surface, engulfing the view we’ve established and in cases this bubble goes out of shape and finally bursts. This happens either because the spectrum of change has more combinations of colours than actually exist or simply due to the fact that the conscience of the bubble was pricked. If it’s human and discretionary to like, isn’t it by the same reasoning natural to dislike?
What could be the reasons indeed behind not having a standard button to dislike? There are some things we view with distaste for which we are entitled to express our earnest opinions, no? Like to dislike? There’s nothing much you can do about it, if only ironically ‘like’ the dislike button and hope to ring in a change to dislike!
Dislike to like? Passing a comment to express disapproval is permitted but creating a bubble of negativity that could be hazardous if and when it bursts is like setting the ball rolling and then losing control of the speed of change inflicted. It’s all very well to dislike a comment or status message that we declare unworthy of existing ,let alone being liked, but imagine the ramifications if it were applied to community pages or websites? A negative rating falling through the floor is the last thing owners would desire, even if it were the stark truth. When negative emotions are running high, keeping everyone’s best interests in mind, it was deemed necessary to sagaciously curb one’s urge to surge.
While likes have added fuel to the motor of our virtual life, we begin disliking the fact that despite liking some things to a greater degree than others, this isn’t reflected by the potent ‘like’. ‘Likes’ tell the world where our ‘interests’ lie (pun intended).It might not provide the complete picture without ‘dislikes’ and in some instances could be totally off the main course (and is best taken with a pinch of salt!) for inexplicable reasons. Like it or like the fact that you/someone else like(s) it? The former has a button that can be nonchalantly hit; the latter doesn’t and needs to be consumed.