Who Was the Better Friend?

Mark or Tom

Do you remember the time when social media felt free. It was weird and messy with a gloriously chaotic symphony of ideas. You picked your profile song like it was your soul’s soundtrack. Your background had glittery stars, flames, or whatever reflected your inner 8th-grade soul at that moment. You ranked your Top 8 friends like it was the most important diplomatic decision of your life.

And at the center of it all was a guy named Tom. Your first friend. The only truly loyal friend in tech. White t-shirt. No filters. Smiling at a whiteboard. No branding. Just vibes.

Tom didn’t try to curate your experience, he let you build your own palace. He didn’t care what you thought—as long as it was your thought. He didn’t manipulate your mood, weaponize your data, or ask you to buy NFTs in a legless metaverse. He just built a digital playground. An awkward, beautiful, imperfect digital playground.

He wasn’t trying to optimize your time on the site. He was trying to make something cool. MySpace was messy because humans are messy. It was expressive because Tom believed the internet should be. It was yours. He gave it to you.

And then came Mark.

It all started at Harvard, where he created Facemash—a site that let students rate each other’s attractiveness without consent. It was juvenile, invasive, and deeply on-brand for what was to come. He got in trouble with the school, but he also got inspired for more. If that much chaos could be created in a weekend, imagine what could be done with real code, real data, and real ambition.

So he launched Facebook, a student directory that quickly metastasized into the digital command center of modern life. Mark didn’t build a playground. He built a lab. And you were the subject.

As we all know, Mark has become the emperor of a vast algorithmic empire. Not a platform for your thoughts, but a machine designed to shape them. Facebook became the place where connection slowly morphed into correction. Where you weren’t just sharing—you were being steered.

Mark built a labyrinth designed to shape what you think, how you vote, and who you trust. Every scroll, every click, every pause is monitored, mapped, monetized. The product is no longer the app.

The product is you.

Tom sold MySpace in 2005, cashed out, and walked away—not to launch a new startup or build a rocket for rich people—but to take photos, travel the world, and live his life. Tom didn’t want to own your soul. He just wanted to build something meaningful, hand it over, and go surf in Bali.

So if you’re feeling tired of algorithms that stoke outrage, platforms that flatten identity, and apps that seem to know your thoughts before you do, it’s not just nostalgia.

You miss freedom. You miss weirdness. You miss when the internet wasn’t run by data farms and dopamine hacks.

What you really miss...

Is Tom.

And in this political climate, where independent thought is punished, tribalism is monetized, and every platform seems to ask, “Which side are you on?” we could all use a little more of Tom’s energy.

Messy. Honest. Human.

So here’s to Tom, tech’s one and only benevolent ghost.

He didn’t turn us into users. He reminded us we are people.

Written by,

Austen Campbell
Founder | Independent National Coalition