If buying your competition is a crime, then every successful American CEO should be sitting in a cell next to Zuckerberg—with Harvard degrees as their mugshots. In plain English, calling Facebook/Meta a monopoly while TikTok eats America’s youth alive is like accusing Burger King of food dominance while McDonald’s is handing out fries on every corner.
Meta’s antitrust case is a joke dressed up in a suit, and the punchline is the FTC. What’s unfolding in court isn’t a defense of competition—it’s a political theater, with the Federal Trade Commission suddenly waking up from a regulatory coma, possibly stirred by Trump’s vendetta-induced morning wood for Mark Zuckerberg. Yes, that’s what it looks like when the FTC tries to reverse its own signed deal years later, as if they're now allergic to ink.
Let’s lay it out bare: Facebook, now Meta, legally purchased Instagram in 2012 and WhatsApp in 2014. Both acquisitions were greenlit by the FTC itself. There was no ambush, no deceit, no regulatory sleight of hand. But fast forward to 2020, and suddenly these deals are being portrayed like criminal conspiracies. That’s like a landlord approving your lease, cashing your rent checks for a decade, and then kicking you out for moving in. Ridiculous doesn’t even begin to describe it.
What exactly is the FTC’s new gripe? That Meta has a monopoly in something they’re calling “personal social networking.” But let’s break that down—because it smells fishier than a tuna salad in a sauna. They say Meta only competes with Snapchat and MeWe. Not TikTok, not YouTube, not Reddit, not X, not LinkedIn, not Pinterest, not even Truth Social. Really? That’s like saying Coca-Cola only competes with RC Cola while ignoring Pepsi, Sprite, and Red Bull. It’s not a narrow definition—it’s a dishonest one.
Even a blindfolded man on a unicycle can see that TikTok alone has bulldozed the social media landscape, grabbing more than a billion users globally and stealing hours of screen time like a digital Robin Hood. TikTok has changed how people post, how they view, how they dance, how they sell—and yes, how they compete. Meta had to reinvent parts of Instagram and Facebook just to keep up. But somehow, according to the FTC, TikTok doesn’t count. How convenient.
Let’s not forget the current state of the market. We’ve seen a flurry of startups rise—Clubhouse, BeReal, Bluesky—even Trump’s own Truth Social. Some fizzled out like cheap fireworks, but they still prove that the social media space isn’t closed; it’s hyperactive. Meta isn’t blocking the gate—it’s just winning the race. And last time I checked, winning wasn’t a crime. It's only a problem if you’re the one losing.
Besides, if users hated Meta’s products so much, why do they keep coming back like it's a social media crackhouse? Reports show nearly half of mobile screen time is spent on social platforms. People are glued to these apps like toddlers to tablets. It’s not about ads or privacy or even competition. It’s about addiction—and guess what? Nobody forced them. Consumers vote with their thumbs, and they’ve chosen Meta over and over again.
As for innovation, Meta didn’t buy Instagram and WhatsApp to kill them. They supercharged them. Instagram’s camera features, stories, reels, and integrations with Facebook made it explode. WhatsApp, once a niche texting app, became the encrypted global messaging beast it is today. Meta didn’t bury the competition—it fertilized it. If that’s monopoly, then every successful American business should stand trial.
The FTC’s argument about internal emails discussing “buying over building” is another clown act. That’s called strategy, not sabotage. Every company considers whether it’s better to build from scratch or buy something that works. That’s not illegal—it’s MBA 101. If planning to beat the market is now a violation, we might as well declare capitalism a crime.
What makes this case even more absurd is the irony surrounding it. While the FTC claims Meta has no competition, TikTok, Meta’s biggest rival, is itself dangling in legal limbo thanks to government bans. We don’t even know if TikTok will be around by the time this trial wraps. So how can any court judge the level of competition when the playing field keeps changing based on political whims?
And here’s the real kicker: the FTC already approved these deals. This isn't a missed red flag—it’s a forgotten memory. Now they want to retroactively punish Meta for playing by the rules they set? It’s as if the referee joined the game ten years later, blew the whistle, and called offside. That’s not justice—that’s regulatory dementia.
Some say Meta grew too powerful. But that’s like blaming a tree for growing tall after you planted the seed and watered it daily. Meta invested, built, acquired, and innovated. The FTC stood by the entire time, clapping along the way. Now that Meta’s towering over the competition, they want to swing an axe at the roots?
This isn’t about protecting consumers. It’s about punishing a company because it succeeded under rules that are now politically inconvenient. And let’s not pretend this has nothing to do with Trump’s obsession with Zuckerberg. From the Mar-a-Lago dinner photos to the billion-dollar platforms, Trump’s shadow looms large. The sudden regulatory fever from an agency that snored through the original deals seems all too coincidental. It’s like watching a soap opera where the ex comes back to sabotage the wedding.
The court should treat this case like yesterday’s memes—recognize it for the noise it is and swipe it up and away. Facebook/Meta should not only win this case—they should be applauded for giving Americans platforms they use, enjoy, and can’t seem to live without. The FTC should focus on future frauds, not rewrite history to settle old political scores.
And if the regulators still insist on dragging this nonsense to court, maybe it’s time we investigate the FTC for impersonating a watchdog while actually being a lapdog with a Twitter account.
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