Facebook has blocked the accounts of hundreds of ordinary people, ignoring pleas for help and refusing to provide explanations

Wednesday, Oct. 21. It was just another day in Covidland. Got up, made coffee, emptied the dishwasher, fed the cats, and sat down at the laptop. Checked email, then Facebook, as usual.

And was greeted with the message, “Your account has been disabled.”

So began the process of being in Facebook hell, a process that would make Dante smile.

I discovered that the deactivation applied to four of us who were/are admins for a moderate-left Facebook political discussion group. Our members are carefully vetted and we post articles from mainstream credible sources, based on the MediaBias chart. We also discussed debates and hearings.

Our pages were all gone. For me, it was 10 years worth of contacts (many reachable through Facebook only), photos, my adult coloring- and cat-related groups, my ExclusivelyCats business page.

We quickly learned about the futility of the Facebook appeals process. With more than 55,000 employees, Facebook lacks the ability to tell us what arch-crime we committed or if our exile was temporary or permanent.

I created a new Facebook page with a different email address and that was quickly deactivated.

An online search revealed that we were not alone. A host of videos and complaints told similar stories – pages shut down with no explanation, no response, no idea of whether their pages would be restored. Several people on Twitter reported similar experiences and more came forth as I inquired further.

I then filed a slew of complaints against FB – to the BBB and the FCC, which referred me to the FTC; I received acknowledgements and case numbers. I contacted the Washington Post via a managing editor who handles social media; she said she would pass along the information. We’ve also been in touch with a reporter from Bloomberg and an activist/journo friend. I’ve contacted CommonCause and freepress.net. Rachel Maddow and Sen.Richard Blumenthal (who has interviewed Zuckerberg) were also been contacted. I’m a member of the Society of Professional Journalists and contacted the local chapter president. Part of the problem was that the election was taking up all the oxygen in the room and this story is probably small potatoes.

Enter the Scammer

From my lamentations on Twitter came an offer of help, recommending @jackson_hacker77, who offered to restore our accounts “100% guaranteed, in 2 hours” for $400. The four of us discussed it (amid urgent messages from “Jackson”), not without a degree of trepidation, but in the end and after more discussion with “Jackson” whose other name is Rolando Santano, decided to go for it since we didn’t see any other solution; our desperation obviously made us vulnerable. I sent him our user names and email addresses (no passwords!), arranged transfer of the $400 through Zelle and held my breath.

The next string of messages confirmed our suspicions. He wanted an additional $1,400 to “verify our emails” as part of an “online verification”… “not all accounts ask for verification but yours did.” I expressed my outrage and said it confirmed my suspicions. He swore on his mom’s grave and as a Christian that he didn’t have any reason to steal our money… “trust me.” I did offer him $100 – after our accounts were restored. “Are you kidding?” he responded.

Yeah, right. I told him not to play the religion card.

I said I’d check with my colleagues and get back to him. At that point, we agreed to pull the plug on him.

I didn’t get back to my computer until late the next morning and found a message from him, “Good morning.” One of the other admins had asked him on Twitter if he was a scammer. By the time I got to Twitter, all of his messages and his account had disappeared. Fortunately, I had copied most of the critical parts of the conversation.

I questioned the individual who had recommended him, who said he was “very busy” and was available through Instagram. I said the account had been deleted due to violations of terms of service and reiterated I was very disappointed with the whole thing.

We agreed it was a lesson learned.

Next step, reporting the fraud. I contacted Zelle through my bank and told my story to a sympathetic investigator, Ronda. She assured me that I wasn’t the only one who’s gotten scammed (she said many people got scammed on buying puppies through the internet) and took all the information I had on him. She didn’t make any promises, but said I should hear something in 45 days, maybe sooner. And gave me another case number to add to my list. She also suggested I contact the FBI.

And then there arrived another message: “With the help of @millkihacks, he helped me access back my account under few hrs.. he’s legit and trustworthy.. he will help you. He helped me and you can trust him, I’m sure you will testify too.”

Ummm… Lemme think on that…

A couple of days later, I received a Tweet from Brian Etemad (@BrianEtemad7), who appeared to be a handsome tRump-supporting family man: “Why have you not been responding to me, you thought I ran away, which is not, I said you Should text me on my Instagram so I can continue your work and get it done.”

I shot him a few zingers about having more identities than underwear and blocked him.

@millkihacks also “reached out” on Twitter to offer help to Michelle, a real estate agent in Alabama, mother of three, grandmother of 10, whose story was almost the same as ours. She was of the admins for a Facebook group; she said she was blacklisted and even prevented from downloading the Facebook app to her phone. She also attempted to established new accounts, which were all axed within minutes. She had paid him through Paypal, then he wanted an additional $270. She filed a complaint and her messages – from “Kevin Brown” – disappeared.

So at four weeks later, I was still in limbo. The other three admins were able establish new accounts, but I was holding out hope that my account will be restored. Combined with the election, I was exhausted. I thought I would need to use a VPN (virtual private network), another new email address, and variation on my name. Then, try to reconstruct 10 years worth of contacts. (I was been able to reach a few through email and Twitter.)

Who has this on their 2020 Bingo card?

But wait, there’s more

After continuing to post on Twitter, I was hearing from more and more people whose accounts have also been disabled without explanation – non-threatening people such as a mommy blogger sharing recipes, a real estate broker, a musician, a gamer, and a Buddhist, who writes, “There are thousands of us. A Facebook Reddit group reveals most had no warning and many were “left leaning.” Following! I’ve lost hundreds of friends and my business.”

The more we shared, the more it seemed like we were collateral damage for weird AI algorithm. I guessed that some geek behind a curtain could fix it all by typing a few lines of code.

I continued to post daily reminders on Twitter directed to @Facebook with #FacebookDisabledMyAccount and #Facebookdisableme.

Two addresses popped up in the course of my Twitter posts: datarequests@support.facebook.com and accounts@facebook.support.com. I wrote to both of them and received the requisite canned links, which I had already used, to no end. I kept at them, in shall we say, strongly worded language. Someone also shared an obscure link at the very bottom of one of the “help” pages, https://feedback-form.truste.com/watchdog/request; I filled out that form as well. That reply came back with the usual pablum and I replied with unpablum-like language. It seems as if the 55,000 Facebook employees were cardboard cutouts while Zuck and Sheryl counted their millions.

Then on Thursday, Dec. 17, almost two months after my account was disabled, I received an email notification about a Facebook post by a friend, something I wasn’t even receiving before I was blocked. I took a breath, and clicked on it. Boom! It was back. All of it.

I cautiously started exploring and confirmed that my ExclusivelyCats page was still there, with the last post on Oct. 7, and Oct. 20 for my regular page. So I wrote my first post since then, “Holy Freaking Moly! I'm back!!!” to a sweet chorus of “welcome back.”

My takeaway. There are plenty of deplorables who use Facebook to spread conspiracy theories and hate, but I would guess that most of its users share life experiences; common interests; connecting with relatives, friends, and work colleagues; and promoting small businesses. In these times of work-at-home and Covid-related anxiety, Facebook can be a lifeline for so many people.

So I guess it goes back to the adage, “The squeaky wheel gets the grease.” But if you really feel the loss, be persistent. It looks like someone out there finally heard me.

Resources

New York Times – Dec. 18, 2020

QAnon is still spreading on Facebook, despite a ban

New York Times – Nov. 24, 2020

Roiled by Election, Facebook Struggles to BalanceCivility and Growth

New York Times – Nov. 23, 2020

How Misinformation ‘Superspreaders’ Seed False ElectionTheories

@Ravens posted this article on Medium.com – Nov.4, 2020

Facebook Shadow Bans: Why Haven’t MajorNews Stations Caught On?

From the New York Times, back in August 2019:

Many Are Abandoning Facebook. These People Have the Opposite Problem

From LinkedIn – Sept. 26, 2016