🤢 Less Toxic | Online
I: How We Got Here
No matter who owns Twitter, whether Instagram’s timeline is algorithmic or sequenced, and regardless of whether TikTok is the future, you have control over what you see and who you engage with.
The fun of social media is in its ability to serve up nuggets that we want to see efficiently and without preconception. The beauty is in its ability to help us connect and stay connected. There’s some utility to it, too.
It’s darkness may lie in its need for and methods of monetization. These platforms are no more inherently evil than any other platform looking to monetize.
In Web 2.0, the user-created, data-mined and advertising-backed era of the internet, we all hopped onto version 1.0 of these applications. YikYak and Snapchat swooped up college kids, but not before Facebook and MySpace had their claws in them. Then came Instagram, WhatsApp, TikTok, Vibeo, BeReal, Path, and even Medium. Each one of these applications allegedly exists (or existed) to connect people with other people. And many of (or perhaps all of) these perpetuate through revenue generated from advertisers or subscriptions. None are non-profits.
As advertisers gradually and then all at once pulled the rug out from traditional spaces and relocated onto these platforms, the only ceiling inhibiting these platforms’ from monetizing their user base was their own effectiveness. The more competent they were at identifying the monetizable desires of their users and positioning those things in front of their users, the more revenue they’d rake in.
As the platforms grew, so too did their pool of data points. Each new user was an opportunity to better tune their algorithm. With time and effort they have effectively leveraged our psychology against us. Since their inception in ~2005 they have evolved often and a lot. I have evolved precisely zero (and you too, probably).
Here in 2022 while still ostensibly existing to help us users connect with others for our benefit, they have also been successful in keeping us addicted, obsessed and Tweeting. The more they push content that keeps people on the platform (measured through monthly activity such as posts, replies or likes), the better they accomplish their CFO’s imperative of perpetuating the placement of these applications in our lives.
All the while, we bemoan them (often in posts on their platforms), for radicalizing people, allowing people who were previously dangerous loners to connect with other like-minded dangerous loners or for perpetuating hearsay into fake truth. Now, I don’t know about solving those problems at scale, but in terms of minimizing these affects on an individual-level, I have some thoughts.
II: The Big Bad Algorithm
The Algorithm is not a dragon sleeping atop a volcano that looms above our village. It’s more insidious. It lives among us. It takes our likes, fears, hopes and wishes and uses them against us. A common refrain in the real world away from The Algorithm’s grasp is that The Algorithm pushes outrage artists, certain political agendas and bad actors. Perhaps it does. Or perhaps not.
I’m here today to challenge the narrative that we’re helpless in the eyes of The Algorithm. Rather than protecting our vulnerable selves from The Big Bad Algorithm by forcing Facebook, Twitter and the others to change their algorithm, let us take some personal responsibility for what we see. Let’s control what we can control using the tools available to us. The algorithm amplifies what we respond to, therefore we must be careful what we respond to. So how do we do that?
III: Conquering The Algorithm
I have yet to meet a person who’s been able to will away their dark side. We all have emotions, temptations and flaws. Social media doesn’t need to be an exercise in willpower. Here’s what I do on these platforms to keep myself sane, because despite their flaws I like the value these platforms bring me and I don’t want to quit them (except in some cases).
#1 — Block Accounts
Anytime you encounter an account, if you don’t want to engage with them, block them. I have blocked droves of accounts on Twitter for posting stuff that I don’t want to see with a one-strike rule. Perhaps I’m perpetuating my own personal echo chamber or perhaps I’m preserving my own attention. I don’t go to these platform to engage with people hell-bent on conducting themselves in the least cordial way possible. I believe in civil discourse. If some account doesn’t meet that criterion, I block them without a second thought.
#2 — Mute Accounts
In some cases there are accounts that I like. Perhaps it’s an art account that takes brief asides to dive into the realm of politics (something I’m not interested in). In these situations, if they pass the bar of Rule #1, I’ll opt to mute them and carry on my way until they’re behaving.
#3 — Turn off or limit comments
If I am compelled to post an opinion, especially on Twitter, I’m not obligated to listen to the replies. Period.
#4 — Unfollowing is not enough, but it helps
#5 — Ignore the metrics
This is not an option for every platform, but often on web interfaces there is an option for removing counts. On Twitter web I use an extension called “Demetricator” that hides like counts, follower counts, etc. If you can’t remove them, ignore them.
#6 — When all else fails take a time out
Don’t be afraid to tap out for a time. I’ll sit out around elections, or right after disasters. It’ll be there when you’re ready to come back.
IV: Denouement
If you create an echo chamber, who cares. Maybe reconsider where you’re getting your news. Moms on Facebook, Millennials on Instagram, GenZ on TikTok and journalists broadcasting from ivory towers on Twitter as a whole may not be worthy of your trust. And that’s okay. There’s no mandate for imprimatur on these platforms.
However, if you are looking to learn, have your thoughts provoked, to laugh or to be otherwise entertained, these platforms can be tremendous sources of connection.
Don’t just beware the algorithm. Tame it.
Thanks for reading.
Michael
