There are many ways to communicate, but there are even more ways to fail to communicate. The most important of these I call, 'The Curse of FaceBook'. It's a mysterious thing, and, on the face of it, should never happen. After all, Social Networking sites are all about 'communication', in the widest sense. How could they lead to non-communication? Or worse, misunderstandings and antagonism?

The first problem is the very ease with which communications are possible on sites like FaceBook. While enjoying a session on your page, you can 'nudge' a friend; write a comment on their 'Wall'; send them a message or comment on something they have up. In all, it may be that when you leave and log off, there are several 'communications' that have passed between you. When your friend logs on, which do they choose to reply to? That's the first problem. It's as though you've written your friend a letter; sent them an email; a text; left them a message on their answerphone; and passed on a message via a mutual friend. There are now five actual 'communications' that need a reply. If you fail to get one - even just one out of the five - there is an opportunity to feel slighted and undervalued. Same with FaceBook. Even if your pal has commented on your comment, and replied to your reply, then you will still be looking to see if they've noticed your note on their Photos page. No matter how detailed and precise the first of these replies might be, you've already set yourself up to fail. There's a good chance, a very good chance, that your friend's replies won't match yours in terms of numbers or enthusiasm, in which case, you're disappointed. But this is what happens; lots of people join FaceBook, but their enthusiasm varies. Some visit the site every day, some once a week. It's not as though you're working in the same office as these pals from your past and see them every day. It's not as though they are still fellow students at your University any more. They have more in their lives now, other priorities. If you're a keen FaceBooker, you're bound to feel let down that everyone else is not as addicted as you.

The second problem is that hidden in that storm of chatter, there might actually be a significant point. Unfortunately, it's going to get lost. I know this to my cost. I have written a paragraph that talks about what fun we had last year; how wonderful the weather is; how great it would be to do it all again; and when are we going to meet up? It's only the last point that needs an answer: often, it never arrives. I'm upset. That was an actual question. Look, I'm saying, when are you going to be in town next? They've replied, oh, sure they have, and told me about their weather and the problems with their car and children. But try as I might, I can't find an answer to my specific query. That's the problem with social networking: it's vague, it's rambling, it's cheerful but not direct. It's like a bunch of people having a chat down the pub. How easy is it to say, 'Hold on, guys. What time are we leaving for the party?' How easy is it to get people to address the question over the hubbub? You need one thing that the pub (and the Social Network) can't offer: you need focus. It just isn't there.

There's a third way in which the whole system can jam up. The fervent FaceBooker logs on, makes some comments, asks some questions and makes some cheeky points. They log on the next day, eagerly looking for feedback. Suppose there isn't any? Now we have a new problem. The regular Networker starts to get impatient. After all, they have things to say, points to make. They have made comments and want comments back. When they don't get any, they irritatedly start to make more. That's when things really start to get confusing. It happened to me: after a week, a so-called 'friend' of mine eventually got round to looking at their FaceBook page. At that juncture, they were faced with four messages from me. They decided to answer them all at once. What happened? The inevitable; they didn't actually answer any of the vital questions. They commented on the weather; made some cracks about schools; quipped about their job; and complained about money. That bit - the vital bit - about meeting up, was lost.

It's as though your really are down the pub and everyone else is blind drunk. Sure, you can have a laugh. Sure, you can chat about the 'old times' and kid yourself what a great thing it all was. What you can't do is the one thing that is the essence of communication: you can't get a straight answer to a straight question. Ask yourself, if you came back from holiday and found 71 messages in your email box, how likely is it that you would be able to make a coherent reply to each and every one? But that's what 'Social Networking' is all about. You've got a bunch of people clamouring for your attention, each one with some point that is vital to them, (but only to them), and each person wants you - YOU - to laugh along with them, smirk with them, commiserate with them. You're being bullied and badgered and you try and put a smile on your face and grin and bear it. Oh, and that question? Sorry, what did you say? I didn't hear you. What was it? You want something? Was there a point? You were trying to say -

Social Networks are a great thing. They put you 'in touch' with people you may not see, or may not have seen for a long time. You can chat and grin with them. But don't expect to 'communicate'. For that, you need to concentrate, focus, and establish real contact. If you were on the phone to them, you would be saying things like, 'Sorry, I missed that', or 'Could you repeat that last bit?' You would be clarifying, discovering details, going over and over something. Try as I might, I can't find a way to make that happen with the websites. They promise to put you in touch, and it's fine as long as you're simply shouting 'Hello'. As soon as you actually want to say something important, well, the junk, the static, the interference, all gets in the way. It's ironic; the new networks promise more communication, but all they deliver is people vigourously waving at each other, smiling and saying 'Hello'. The amount of real, personal interaction is minimal.