"Facebook is helping some of the worst people in the world do terrible things. It’s an astonishingly effective machine to turn people against each other."
As I flipped through the pages of Careless People by Sarah Wynn-Williams, I was struck by the raw honesty of a woman who once believed in the utopian promise of social media, only to witness its transformation into a tool of manipulation and harm. This memoir isn’t just a personal journey; it’s a chilling exposé of Facebook’s inner workings, penned by a former diplomat turned tech insider. Wynn-Williams, who pitched her way into a role as Director of Global Public Policy at Facebook, offers an unflinching look at the company’s rise to global power—and the devastating consequences of its “lethal carelessness.” Let’s unpack this harrowing narrative, from the idealism of its early days to the dark realizations that ultimately led to her departure.
When Sarah Wynn-Williams joined Facebook in 2009, she was fueled by a diplomat’s optimism—a belief that the platform could bridge divides and change the world for the better. Coming from a background in international law and diplomacy at the United Nations, she saw Facebook as a revolutionary force, a digital agora where global conversations could shape politics and society. Her early years were marked by a sense of adventure, pitching a job that didn’t exist and navigating the chaotic, startup-esque energy of a company on the cusp of global domination. She recounts moments of awe at the platform’s potential, like using it to connect with loved ones during personal crises, reinforcing her conviction that this was a tool for good.
But beneath the surface, cracks were already forming. Wynn-Williams describes awkward encounters with world leaders, botched diplomatic efforts, and a CEO, Mark Zuckerberg, who seemed disinterested in the political implications of his creation. Her initial idealism is palpable, yet it’s tinged with the foreshadowing of disillusionment—a tension that sets the stage for the rest of her story.
Ethical Compromises
Facebook’s willingness to bend to authoritarian regimes, particularly in China, reveals a disturbing prioritization of growth over ethics. The company built censorship tools and considered handing over user data, risking lives for market access.
Growth at any cost was the unspoken mantra.
Election Manipulation
The 2016 US election emerges as a turning point, with Facebook embedding staff in Trump’s campaign to microtarget voters with misinformation. Wynn-Williams details how the platform became a weapon for voter suppression and propaganda.
Facebook handed the election to Trump with data-driven precision.
Human Rights Failures
In Myanmar, Facebook’s negligence fueled hate speech and violence against the Rohingya, contributing to genocide. With minimal moderation and language barriers, the platform became a tool for real-world harm.
Myanmar would’ve been better off if Facebook had never arrived.
Internal Toxicity
Wynn-Williams exposes a toxic workplace culture, rife with harassment and power imbalances. Her personal struggles with inappropriate behavior from superiors highlight systemic issues within tech giants.
Trust is gone between staff and leadership at Facebook.
One of the most unsettling revelations in Careless People is Facebook’s relentless pursuit of entry into China, despite the moral quagmire it presented. Wynn-Williams uncovers internal documents detailing “Project Aldrin,” a codenamed initiative to partner with Chinese entities like Hony Capital for content moderation and data storage. The company developed censorship tools to monitor and suppress content at the behest of the Chinese Communist Party, with discussions of emergency switches to block regions like Xinjiang during unrest.
The data speaks volumes: China, despite blocking Facebook, became its second-largest market, generating $5 billion in revenue annually—10% of total earnings. This financial incentive drove decisions that risked user safety, with leadership acknowledging that employees could be responsible for “death, torture, and incarceration” through data responses. Yet, as Wynn-Williams notes, Mark Zuckerberg prioritized this market expansion over ethical concerns, even preparing to deflect congressional scrutiny with carefully crafted half-truths. This chapter of the book is a stark reminder of how profit can eclipse principle in the tech world.
Growth at any cost was the unspoken mantra.
Perhaps the most damning section of the memoir is the detailed account of Facebook’s role in the 2016 US election. Wynn-Williams recounts a pivotal flight to Peru where Elliot, a senior executive, lays out for Zuckerberg how the platform was instrumental in Donald Trump’s victory. Facebook embedded staff in Trump’s campaign in San Antonio, collaborating on microtargeting strategies using a database of 220 million Americans—tracking everything from gun ownership to voting history. The campaign outspent Clinton significantly on ads, becoming one of Facebook’s top global advertisers in the weeks before the election.
Dark posts—nonpublic, targeted ads—were used for voter suppression, aimed at young women, white liberals, and Black voters to discourage Hillary Clinton support. Zuckerberg’s initial denial of influence, calling it a “crazy idea,” shifts to curiosity and even admiration for the ingenuity during this flight. Wynn-Williams captures the chilling moment when Zuckerberg contemplates his own presidential run, inspired by the power Facebook wielded. This isn’t just a business story; it’s a political thriller with real-world consequences.
Facebook handed the election to Trump with data-driven precision.
The chapter on Myanmar is heartbreaking, illustrating Facebook’s “lethal carelessness” in its purest form. Wynn-Williams first visited Myanmar in 2013, witnessing a country transitioning to mobile-first internet, where Facebook became synonymous with the internet itself. By 2014, hate speech targeting the Rohingya Muslim minority proliferated, inciting riots and violence—yet Facebook’s response was woefully inadequate. With only one Burmese-speaking moderator initially, and later just two, the platform failed to address language barriers, Unicode incompatibilities, and even the absence of a reporting function in unofficial apps.
The numbers are staggering: over 700,000 Rohingya fled, and at least 10,000 were killed in a military campaign later deemed genocide by the UN. A 2018 UN report devoted 20 pages to Facebook’s role, citing its failure to moderate content as a key factor. Wynn-Williams’ futile attempts to hire a human rights expert for Myanmar, blocked by bureaucratic excuses from leadership, underscore the company’s indifference to real-world harm. This section is a gut punch, showing how tech negligence can amplify atrocities.
Myanmar would’ve been better off if Facebook had never arrived.
On a personal level, Wynn-Williams lays bare the toxic culture within Facebook, particularly through her experiences with harassment and power dynamics. Her interactions with Joel, a senior executive, reveal a pattern of inappropriate behavior—from creepy comments like calling her “sultry” to physical actions at company events. Despite raising these issues with HR and higher-ups like Elliot, she faces retaliation, culminating in her firing under the guise of performance concerns. The Feminist Fight Club, a secret group of nearly 200 female employees, highlights the broader discontent among women at Facebook, grappling with harassment and systemic inequity.
This isn’t just her story; it’s a mirror to countless others in tech. The internal initiatives, like the #ally bot rewarding men for basic decency, are mocked by staff as performative. Wynn-Williams’ struggle to balance motherhood with a punishing work culture—working during labor, facing health crises post-childbirth—adds a deeply human layer to the corporate critique. Her eventual dismissal feels inevitable, a price paid for speaking out.
Trust is gone between staff and leadership at Facebook.
Careless People is more than a memoir; it’s a warning. Sarah Wynn-Williams doesn’t just recount her seven years at Facebook—she dissects the choices that turned a platform of connection into a weapon of division. From China’s surveillance deals to Myanmar’s genocide, from election meddling to internal toxicity, this book is a catalog of missed opportunities for responsibility. Her prose is unflinching, blending personal vulnerability with sharp analysis, making it both a compelling read and a necessary one.
As I closed the book, I couldn’t shake the sense of what could have been. Wynn-Williams repeatedly emphasizes that “it really didn’t have to be this way.” Different choices could have aligned Facebook’s immense power with ethical responsibility, benefiting both the company and society. Instead, we’re left with a legacy of harm—and a future where Meta, under the same leadership, continues to shape our digital world with little accountability. If you’re looking to understand the true cost of unchecked tech power, this book is an essential, haunting read. Let’s hope it sparks the change its author fought for.
