By Mohit Hira
Had Mark Zuckerberg been around towards the end of the 16th century when Shakespeare was at his prolific best, the Bard would definitely have written a comic-tragedy around this geek whose hubris appears to be the primary factor of his impending nemesis. Or, at least, that’s what Sarah Wynn-Williams would have us believe in her whistleblowing memoir on Facebook, Careless People: A Story of Where I Used to Work (for added emphasis, in case the reader doesn’t get it, a subhead sits under this title: ‘Power. Greed. Madness’).
Unlike a typical Shakespearean tragedy which plays out in five acts, Careless People rambles on in 42 chapters, plus a prologue and epilogue. But in keeping with the genre, the book is cathartic, though it is almost entirely from the biased perspective of the author, a New Zealand diplomat before she persistently pitched her way into a role where she would eventually become director of public policy at Facebook. Her tale begins dramatically with a shark attack that almost killed her (a metaphor that could’ve been played up but appears as an afterthought only on the back cover) and then goes on to chronicle her early days before launching into a curated series of Facebook’s slip-ups.
Like almost 400 million Indians addicted to the social media platform, I, too, was once a regular. I had also leveraged it as an advertising tool professionally. I have also visited its headquarters a decade ago. Having weaned myself away from its intoxicating posts over the past five years, I read Careless People with a mixture of irony and discovery. A detailed exposé of ambition, power and undeterred ethical compromises to fuel corporate growth, the book is also a deterrent that resonates with ongoing debates about technology, politics, and human values—as also the recent invasions of privacy by governments. For Facebook/Meta users in India, advertising executives and policymakers, Careless People serves as both a mirror and a warning about the consequences of prioritising profit over purpose typified by Facebook’s leadership, including Mark Zuckerberg and Sheryl Sandberg, who are portrayed as flawed, often hypocritical figures. It also entertainingly weaves in many of the author’s personal experiences and challenges within the company.
Perhaps her desperate need to get a role in Facebook, and the subsequent demolition of an illusion she had built, triggered this bestselling critique—after all, who doesn’t want to lift the covers and sneak a peek at what lies within a global myth?
The battle between profit and purpose is a recurring theme in the book; it is mirrored in real-world controversies. For a company that began as a mission-driven enterprise, it morphed into an entity that exploits vulnerable populations— the very people it was meant to help. This irony is emphasised by Sarah Wynn-Williams’ critique of Facebook’s advertising practices: “In April 2017, a confidential document is leaked that reveals Facebook is offering advertisers the opportunity to target thirteen-to-seventeen-year-olds during moments of psychological vulnerability.” This crafty method of surveillance and monetisation typifies Facebook’s prioritisation of profit over user welfare. Sarah Wynn-Williams recounts how senior executives not only approved these practices but were proud of them: “This is the business, Sarah. We’re proud of this. We shout this from the rooftops. This is what puts money in all our pockets.” For digital marketers and advertising executives in India who depend on the platform (and its acquired company, Instagram) this should raise critical questions about ethical boundaries in targeted marketing.
India also features indirectly through discussions about Facebook’s role in fostering divisive narratives globally. The author laments how platforms like Facebook empower oppressive regimes: “It’s an incredibly valuable tool for the most autocratic regimes because it gives them direct access into what people are saying from top to bottom of society.” For Indian policymakers navigating social media regulation amidst rising political polarisation, these warnings are particularly poignant. Later in the book, she spills the beans on how the Telecom Regulatory Authority of India foiled Zuckerberg’s free internet ambition. Facebook’s leadership team had feared: “If we lose this in India it will send all the wrong signals in Latin America.” As it happens, they did lose thanks to a clever government official and a technical glitch in the platform. And Sarah Wynn-Williams makes no bones about how the bungling cost Facebook dearly in its largest market.
From a platform meant to connect people, Facebook began influencing its users in myriad ways; and, at the heart of its profit-propelled motives lies both a cosying-up and a conflict with governments. She discusses Facebook’s controversial operations in China as an example of profit-driven compromises. The pitch to Chinese authorities was about adhering “to local laws wherever we operate and develop close relationships with law enforcement and governments”, highlighting how the company was willing to align with authoritarian regimes for access to lucrative markets. It didn’t work—China banned Facebook as early as 2009.
Similarly, India is indirectly referenced in discussions about social media platforms enabling divisive narratives and exploitation of user data—a pressing concern for policymakers. The narrative also suggests that companies push themselves to prioritise financial metrics over social responsibility: “The idea that you can have it both ways—a conscience and a bottom line—is Silicon Valley’s most enduring myth.” This exposé challenges readers to consider whether ethical business practices are achievable within current corporate frameworks.
If Facebook’s Machiavellian motives are worrying, there is another question that will linger on in an astute reader’s mind—is this book a confessional chronicle of a person who coveted this role, but then discovered that she was only aiding and abetting the very acts that made the platform so powerful? Or is there another undisclosed trigger that led to Meta, Facebook’s parent company, attempting a blockade which, in fact, only helped it become more popular. Yet another massive misstep, as the author might say.
So, should you read it? Yes. Is it believable? Perhaps. Will it worry you? You bet!
The writer is co-founder, Myriad Communications, and venture partner at YourNest Capital Advisors.
Disclaimer: Views expressed are personal and do not reflect the official position or policy of FinancialExpress.com. Reproducing this content without permission is prohibited.
Book details:
Title: Careless People
Author: Sarah Wynn-Williams
Publisher: Pan Macmillan
Number of pages: 400
Price: Rs 899