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At its core, Sarah Wynn-Williams’ memoir, Careless People, is a cautionary tale of disillusionment, of believing one can make the world a better place, only to realise that others are manipulating that vision for their own benefit.
The memoir is Wynn-Williams’ scathing and deeply personal account of her time at Facebook, now Meta. Her narrative unfolds like a modern-day version of The Prince, where Mark Zuckerberg is the Machiavellian ruler, and the charm and polish of Sheryl Sandberg provide the illusion of conscience. Through meticulously detailed anecdotes, Wynn-Williams lays bare the culture of a company where the ends always justify the means and empathy is wielded more as a public relations tool than a genuine value.
The memoir illustrates the hubris of Facebook’s leadership, which operates with a self-importance that rivals and, in some instances, overshadows heads of state. Their mantra of moving fast and breaking things is not just a slogan—it is a guiding philosophy that often disregards global laws and ethical considerations in pursuit of unrelenting growth.
The price of authenticity in a corporate machine
A significant and deeply affecting thread in Wynn-Williams’ account is her experience as a working mother in this high-pressure environment. She recounts harrowing moments of balancing work and family, from navigating international travel while pregnant to struggling to find places to pump breast milk in countries with limited accommodations. We won’t even get into her being seen as “hard to work with” while she’s literally in the ICU after giving birth.
The most striking example is when her nanny was locked out of her apartment, leaving her baby alone inside, an incident that required a firefighter’s intervention. Rather than being met with understanding, her role as a mother was seen as a liability, contradicting the company’s supposed commitment to bringing your authentic self to work. The unspoken truth, as Wynn-Williams reveals, is that authenticity is only welcomed when it serves corporate interests. Otherwise, it is an inconvenience.
The game is rigged
One of the most memorable metaphors in the book comes from a seemingly trivial moment during an Asian tour, when senior management plays the Settlers of Catan board game. Wynn-Williams notices her colleagues are deliberately making moves that allow Zuckerberg to win, an act of deference he does not even recognise. When she calls it out, they deny it, and Zuckerberg, oblivious, insists he does not see it happening.
This moment crystallises the broader issue with Facebook and its leadership in general. They are not just playing a different game—they control the board itself. Consumers often react with outrage to changes in moderation policies, mass layoffs and controversial decisions, believing ethical considerations should guide these choices. But as Wynn-Williams demonstrates, these leaders are not making choices based on ethics, they are making them based on what benefits the business. Users are not valued as individuals; they are merely game pieces.
Cosplaying humanity
Throughout the book, Wynn-Williams takes moments to find humanity within Mark Zuckerberg, but it exists only in small flashes, such as a few approving chats in a private jet or one well-crafted email persuading her to move to San Francisco. However, these glimpses contrast sharply with his broader actions.
When it comes to his interactions with staff or his preparation for what seemed to be an early-stage presidential campaign, Zuckerberg appears to be cosplaying as a human instead of actually being one. He eats what other billionaires say he should eat. His speeches morph into what a presidential candidate is expected to sound like. He is not just running a company—he is following a script, playing a game where the stakes are global and the audience is unwittingly drawn into his vision.
The feature, not the bug
Perhaps the most damning example of Zuckerberg’s detached worldview is during the same Asia tour, when he asks Wynn-Williams for a peace rally or a riot. She is baffled, unsure of what he actually wants. What he desires is the spectacle of a massive crowd around him, a sea of people engulfing him in admiration.
The ramifications, whether social, political or economic, are irrelevant. It is a chilling anecdote that encapsulates the fundamental issue at Facebook’s core: a complete lack of awareness of, or concern for, the consequences of its actions. The lack of empathy is a feature, not a bug.
A shocking yet predictable revelation
Careless People includes shocking passages of illegal actions and egregious neglect, but if the reader has paid attention to Facebook over the years, they will find that, though disturbing, its jaw will stay firmly in place. Wynn-Williams presents proof that, while the details may be alarming, they align with the reputation of a company that has demonstrated time and again that scruples are a luxury reserved for those without power.
The book does not just reveal new horrors but confirms what many have long suspected—the people at the top of Silicon Valley’s most influential company operate without ethical restraint when it comes to the pursuit of dominance and profit.
A must-read account
Careless People is passionately written and essential reading for anyone who looks at the world today and wonders how we got here. Wynn-Williams lays out the roadmap to technocracy and exposes the human costs that were ignored along the way. Her firsthand account reveals how the rise of Silicon Valley’s most powerful players was built on decisions that prioritised growth and influence over people.
It is a book that demands reflection, offering both an indictment of big tech and a personal reckoning with the illusions of corporate idealism.
A stark reminder
As the influence of tech leaders continues to grow, Careless People serves as a powerful and necessary reminder that we cannot expect them to make ethical choices. They are not deciding between good and evil—they are deciding what is best for business. Governments, regulators and consumers continue to wait for these leaders to take the moral high ground, but Wynn-Williams makes it painfully clear, morality is not in the equation. Conscience is merely a distraction from growth.
This book is not just a memoir, it is a warning. Wynn-Williams provides an unfiltered look into the heart of a company that, for better or worse, shapes our world. The question she leaves us with is not whether Facebook is intentionally evil, but whether it even matters, because in the end, its decisions are driven by one singular force: the bottom line.
Christina Garnett is a fractional chief customer officer and adviser. Her expertise ranges from Fortune 500 companies to startups, covering sectors from agencies to small businesses.