Once upon a time, back in some Eden-like, prelapsarian state, around 2010, I remember starting to use social media to keep in touch with ‘flesh-and-blood-yes-I’ve-actually-met-them’ friends and to publicise events I was putting on, and it was brilliant. I used Facebook and Twitter and could reach about 400 people every time I posted, who were, crucially, the people who might be interested.
And, guess what: They turned up to events.
Now, it’s just there to make you angry. That’s how it works.
Early days, easy sharing and food snaps
Back then, the only drawbacks were adverts up the side alerting me to the existence of ‘Mature Women Looking For Love In Your Area Called Claire’, who all lived three miles away. Not five or two, always three. This puzzled me, especially given where I lived at the time, as this meant they mostly lived in fields or underground bunkers.
Now it’s just there to make you angry. That’s what it’s designed to do.
Instagram, too, used to be a fairly happy, if superficial, place where people put holiday snaps, pictures of things they were about to eat and loads of great comedy clips. Also, as an events promoter, it made life easier for me as it shared instantly to Facebook, which meant I could do it on my phone (I’d already removed Facebook from my phone by this time), and it halved the time it took to share information.
Now it’s just there to make you angry. That’s what its owners want.
Step right up, hurry, hurry
It does this by triggering the ‘fight-or-flight’ parts of our brains (the amygdala and hypothalamus), releasing adrenaline and causing us to act quickly. Or to comment. These aren’t parts of our brain that are capable of reflection, morality and ‘Is-this-a-good-idea?’ thought-processes. What they do mean is that we end up being triggered to spend more time on a post, both entering our replies and responding to people who’ve been triggered in the same way we were.
All of this activity equals more advertising revenue, which, in turn, makes tech billionaires even richer. Happy days! (For them). As MP Jess Phillips points out in her book, Let’s Be Honest, it would be quicker and less stressful to just send Messrs Musk or Zuckerberg an envelope with a fiver in it.
For the rest of us, well…has it made us happier? One thing we probably would agree on is the answer to that question.
It’s just there to make you angry.
If you wouldn’t do it in real life…
And then there’s the bots and bad actors, and I don’t just mean Laurence ‘fifth-hardest-bloke-at RADA’ Fox (or, second-toughest if you’re a Guardian writer).
I wouldn’t see strangers round a table in a pub talking about something and then just wade in with how I thought they were all completely wrong and/or part of some shadowy conspiracy and/or stupid and/or evil. I don’t like being beaten up, as a rule.
It’s not just that I don’t like the pain involved in a battering: these glasses were expensive.
So, I find it hard to believe that it’s healthy to do so online, especially with people we don’t know. Add to that, the distinct possibility that a person may not even exist as the entity presented in the profile; then we have to ask ourselves what the point might be of entering a comment at all?
No sense engaging with the bots
Here’s an example: I rarely comment on anything, for the reasons already outlined. LIfe’s too short. However, while scrolling Facebook, I noticed a clip of Ian Hislop commenting on Your Party, where he invoked the ‘Judean People’s Front’ scene in the film, Life of Brian. I was curious as to what sort of comments it might attract and, for the most part, it was fairly mild and predictable. But, I noticed one comment that said, “Vote Reform UK”.
Curious as to the provenance, I clicked on the profile, which claimed to be a bloke in New Zealand at what would be about 2.30am, their time. Also, perhaps significantly, there were no visible posts and little ‘About’ info either.
So, in the interests of journalistic integrity, I posted, “So says a bloke in New Zealand with no profile info.” After a pause, which in NZ would have been nearly 3am, I got a response that said, “Says someone named after toilet paper you f*****t”, and lots of faeces emojis.
I don’t use this name without a selection of ready responses, so I replied with the old faithful, “You’re right, I’m a man on a roll. Happy Christmas.”
On further examination, the same correspondent posted the same thing over and over, which suggests bot activity. Thing is, though, people kept engaging with it.
It’s just there to make you angry. It’s just there to make billionaires richer. It’s just there.
But you don’t have to be.
Friends of Bylines Network
There has never been a greater need for grassroots journalism that investigates the stories that really matter, holds power to account and champions the voices of everyday citizens. We are proudly powered by volunteers but what we do isn’t free.
STAND WITH US for independent, citizen-led journalism that makes democracy stronger, and you will even get some exclusive benefits.
