Thanks to social media, we all know too much about each other. We broadcast opinions to the entire Internet that a reasonable person would never mention at Thanksgiving dinner.
I only fully appreciated the flip side of this phenomenon very recently, however. As Jamie Bartlett writes in You are not an embassy, and as simple observation proves, social media companies work very hard to motivate us to share our thoughts publicly. More people sharing more thoughts means more readers, more commenters, more fights, more addiction, more ad impressions, and ultimately more money for these companies.
I can't claim the moral high ground here. I was guilty, too.
We know too much about each other because we've been manipulated into saying too much about ourselves. We've been convinced that we should say things online that we would never say in polite company. Is it any wonder the world is so divided?
I know this may seem hypocritical at first. I'm blogging right now, after all. However, I consider thoughts, the platform that currently powers this blog, to be a calm technology. It doesn't beg for my attention. I don't get any buzzes in my pocket letting me know that someone thought I was wrong. Nobody can like or comment at all. As a result, I write when I want to, not when the platform wants me to. I say what I want, not what drives outrage and enriches Mark Zuckerberg. We need more platforms like thoughts… and fewer like Facebook.
It turns out that in a country as large and diverse as ours, a certain amount of benign neglect of other people’s odd folkways is more conducive to social peace than a constant, in-your-face awareness of clashing sensibilities. Little is gained when people in my corner of Brooklyn gawk at viral images of Christmas cards featuring families armed to the teeth. And people in conservative communities don’t need to hear about it every time San Francisco considers renaming a public school.
The social corrosion caused by Facebook and other platforms isn’t a side effect of bad management and design decisions. It’s baked into social media itself.
There are many reasons Facebook and the social media companies that came after it are implicated in democratic breakdown, communal violence around the world and cold civil war in America. They are engines for spreading disinformation and algorithmic jet fuel for conspiracy theories. They reward people for expressing anger and contempt with the same sort of dopamine hit you get from playing slot machines.
My position on banning TikTok hasn't changed. I don't know if I support banning it, but I do encourage everyone to stop using it. It's digital tobacco, every bit as harmful to the mind.
I often wonder why there isn't a business that resells streaming subscriptions. Such a business could offer, for one price (and, importantly, one bill, one app, one password, and one user interface) access to content from several streaming platforms. The business could renegotiate deals with the underlying platforms based on how popular their content is with viewers.
I know, it sounds like I'm reinventing cable. Still, I think customers would appreciate this convenience. I certainly would. There must be a reason someone hasn't done it already, though. If you know more, let me know!
Throughout history, every single time something's gotten better, it's become somebody has come along to say, “This is stupid. We can do better.” It's the critics that drive improvement. It's the critics who are the true optimists.
How does social media drive political polarization? Justin Rosenstein explains in The Social Dilemma:
You look over at the other side, and you start to think, “How can those people be so stupid? Look at all of this information that I'm constantly seeing. How are they not seeing that same information?” And the answer is, they're not seeing that same information.
This is by no means the only way social media drives political polarization. It turns out, showing users gradually more extreme content is also a great way to keep them addicted. More addiction means more screen time, more ad impressions, and ultimately more money for these companies. Still, it's a great place to start when describing the problem. The other side is not seeing what you see. In fact, they're getting a constant stream of information about how wrong you are, and you'll hardly ever see a drop of it yourself.
This is a slight rewording of something Alex Limi once said during an internal presentation at Mozilla. The point is not about usage, but rather creation. Building something simplistic is easy, but building something simple is hard. The observation stuck with me, and I think it's a great little maxim.
Think about it in product design. Picasa was simplistic, but Instagram is simple. eBay is simplistic, but Facebook Marketplace is simple. IRC is simplistic, but Slack is simple.
To be clear, I'm not saying Picasa, eBay, or IRC are incapable. On the contrary, they're too powerful. I prefer the designs of Instagram, Facebook Marketplace, and Slack for what they can't do. Of course, whether anyone should use Instagram, Facebook, or Slack is another question. Even cigarettes can be thoughtfully designed.
I find “retention” emails so creepy. A friend recently received one from GrubHub, which guilted him for not using the service enough. They practically read like ransom notes.
“Why haven't you been using GrubHub? What can we do differently? Who's that person you keep hanging out with? Did someone slash your tires?”
Life is hard. Maybe I don't have time for GrubHub right now. Chill.