Why You Should Always Read the Small Print from Facebook

By entering I was giving Facebook permission to use its recordings of me, my companion and anyone else sailing into the chowder house "throughout the universe, for any purpose whatsoever, in perpetuity"

Join Our Community of Science Lovers!

Yes, it says "the universe."

(Credit:

Chris Matyszczyk/CNET)


On supporting science journalism

If you're enjoying this article, consider supporting our award-winning journalism by subscribing. By purchasing a subscription you are helping to ensure the future of impactful stories about the discoveries and ideas shaping our world today.


Please imagine you were to spend Saturday enjoying a little reading on the beach and then, perhaps, a couple of drinks.

Please imagine you decided to waft down to Northern California's Half Moon Bay and wandered into an establishment called Sam's Chowder House.

You may or may not have been with someone you shouldn't have been escorting. Still, you hoped for a little privacy, a little quiet time to contemplate life's ideas and people (small and large), while staring out at the ocean.

You may not have noticed the little yellow signs on the door of the chowder house. There are often little signs on glass doors. Surely they are about as meaningful as those Yelp and Zagat stickers.

In this case, though, it was a good thing my mind was stone cold.

For here was Facebook informing me that if I entered it would be photographing me and recording my conversations.

Perhaps I should have been unsurprised. This is merely the next stage of our ever-networked world.

And yet, as I read the smaller type, I saw that Facebook didn't merely intend to shoot and record with nary a privacy care.

No, by entering I was giving Facebook permission to use its recordings of me, my companion and anyone else sailing into the chowder house "throughout the universe, for any purpose whatsoever, in perpetuity."

Still, I could be assured that the company would, at least, allow me some rights to these recordings.

Not quite. "All such photographs and sound recordings to be the sole property of Facebook."

More Technically Incorrect

Technically, not merely of Facebook but of "its successors and assigns too."

Ergo, I could be chatting about my innermost thoughts, feelings, and intentions and Facebook could give (or even sell) the recording to anybody it chooses as one of its "assigns."

Would the company that is supposedly dedicated to bringing the world together assign details of my assignation to, say, someone who may not be my friend?

It seems to claim that right.

Oh, I know you'll tell me that this just a standard release form created by a turbo-lawyer.

But you'd imagine that Facebook, the company that prides itself on its people-centricity and privacy controls, might be a little more sensitive to these things.

It seems not. I have therefore contacted Facebook to ask whether the company can envisage, at any point, playing a recording of my intimate conversations to aliens from the Planet Zug.

The truth is, Facebook won't have the chance.

I read the small print, used the restroom and left. It's not that I don't trust Facebook. Oh, alright, it is.

It’s Time to Stand Up for Science

If you enjoyed this article, I’d like to ask for your support. Scientific American has served as an advocate for science and industry for 180 years, and right now may be the most critical moment in that two-century history.

I’ve been a Scientific American subscriber since I was 12 years old, and it helped shape the way I look at the world. SciAm always educates and delights me, and inspires a sense of awe for our vast, beautiful universe. I hope it does that for you, too.

If you subscribe to Scientific American, you help ensure that our coverage is centered on meaningful research and discovery; that we have the resources to report on the decisions that threaten labs across the U.S.; and that we support both budding and working scientists at a time when the value of science itself too often goes unrecognized.

In return, you get essential news, captivating podcasts, brilliant infographics, can't-miss newsletters, must-watch videos, challenging games, and the science world's best writing and reporting. You can even gift someone a subscription.

There has never been a more important time for us to stand up and show why science matters. I hope you’ll support us in that mission.

Thank you,

David M. Ewalt, Editor in Chief, Scientific American

Subscribe