I no longer use Meta because one of the world’s most sophisticated tech companies can’t tell when my account’s been hacked

When Sue Keay’s Facebook account was hacked, Meta didn’t warn her of the obvious problem, it preferred to go nuclear and deleted all her accounts. It’s a reminder that digital sovereignty matters.

There used to be a lot of different ways that people could connect with me but please know that you are no longer able to contact me via Meta Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, Threads or Messenger for Business.

I am not ignoring you. I no longer exist on any Meta platforms.

Last week, I found myself unwillingly joining the latest trend: being abruptly and permanently banned from Meta.

My Facebook account was hacked, and within 10 swift hours, on a Sunday while I was happily offline, Meta banned me from Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, Threads, and Messenger, without explanation or recourse.

As someone who prides herself on digital savvy, this was humbling; despite being meticulous about data security, I had neglected to activate Multi-Factor Authentication (MFA) on Facebook. Lesson learned.

But here’s the kicker. Even considering my oversight, I’m baffled by Meta’s drastic response.

They possess monumental computational power, among the largest in the world, rivalling Google and Microsoft, yet they couldn’t detect that my account activity was glaringly abnormal?

After over two decades of predictable use, suddenly logging in from a remote part of Mexico and publishing objectionable content should have triggered alarms, flashing lights, or perhaps a courteous email query and the opportunity to establish my identity. Instead, total banishment with zero right of appeal was their chosen route.

The more I researched, the more alarming the stories became: countless users losing businesses, entire digital identities, and vital connections overnight. Some were forced into lengthy legal battles simply to regain their online lives.

After several fruitless hours trying to get help and realising even my 30-year-old phone number was permanently banned from WhatsApp (seriously?), I decided maybe life without Meta wouldn’t be the end of the world, perhaps it could even be the start of something better.

Reflecting on my experience makes me even more aware that Australia needs to aspire to true AI sovereignty, owning and creating the technologies that we increasingly use.

Countries worldwide are questioning their reliance on massive, foreign-owned tech companies, and are vulnerable to similar sudden disruptions without adequate oversight or redress. Europe’s digital sovereignty initiatives, India’s local data laws, and South Korea’s push for national digital infrastructure all reflect attempts to protect against precisely these scenarios.

Digital autonomy isn’t paranoia – it’s pragmatism.

But what about the downsides? Leaving Meta has cost me the easy, instantaneous connections I used to enjoy with friends.

Many of my social groups communicate exclusively (and unthinkingly) on Messenger or WhatsApp, so I’m inevitably missing organised events and the daily ebb and flow of casual chatter. But there are also upsides. Less noise, fewer superficial distractions, and more intentional communication.

My screen time has plummeted; my focus has increased. There’s liberation in reclaiming control over my digital existence. It’s unexpectedly refreshing.

So please, don’t look for me on Meta. I’m trialing a life unplugged from Mark Zuckerberg’s sprawling digital empire, exploring platforms that respect user rights, transparency, and accountability, like Bluesky Social. If this resonates, maybe give it a try too.

Digital sovereignty, I’ve now learned from personal experience, isn’t just important national policy, it’s about resilience.

Who knew being deplatformed could actually feel like a fresh start? Let’s see how long I last.

• Dr Sue Keay is an expert in robotics, AI and automation. and the Director of the UNSW AI Institute. Follow her on BlueSky