Twitter Support Group?
Fine. I spent too much time on Twitter. Even so, It’s heartbreaking to see it go down like this. I haven’t reacquainted myself with the fail whale yet, but it’s probably coming. Even if the platform doesn’t completely collapse, it is probably permanently ruined. The whole thing has me thinking about the good, the bad, and the ugly of social media.
First the good:
Twitter especially shone a light on folks who are otherwise frequently shoved out of the spotlight. Marginalized communities could call out racism and injustice with hashtags like #BlackLivesMatter. Women used #metoo to tell their stories of being sexually harassed or assaulted. Twitter made us think. Twitter made us see.
The bird app also made us laugh. Even in the midst of turmoil, someone was always cracking a joke, and the most successful of those jokes punched up rather than down. I’m going to miss all of it. #RuinAMovieTitleWithFood. The Moonpie account. Blooper stiff arming kids. Heck, Lake Superior has an account. So does Jorts the Cat.
Speaking of Jorts, Twitter was a place to learn. It could be labor practices or agriculture, history or literature, gender studies or fashion, even sex. There was something there for everyone, truly. You never knew what you might learn that day.
Now the bad:
For starters, we have no idea how much social media has disrupted our neurotransmitters, especially those of our kids. We have scrolled entirely too much in search of something (a dopamine hit?) we can’t quite quantify to ourselves. As a result, our attention spans are even shorter than they were.
Second, comparison is truly the thief of joy. Instagram especially has been shown to make people unhappy as they compare real life to that of highly curated accounts, but Twitter could do the same. Maybe I gravitated more to Twitter because it seemed like the place where people could be vulnerable instead of putting on a show.
Third, it’s not a great place for anxious people—ask me how I know. For someone who has always sought to belong but also has a remarkable ability to stick her foot in her mouth on the regular, Twitter could validate me and mortify me on the same day. Sometimes both happened in a matter of minutes. Heaven help you if you said something wrong, too, because the dog pile could be fierce. The hits would just keep coming.
In fact, this post was inspired by an Instagram post I saw today. Someone made a mistake. They apologized sincerely. A good chunk of the comments said “Your apology isn’t good enough.” Another sizable segment rose to the poster’s defense. Whether Twitter or Insta or Facebook, social media exacerbates our human conditioning to seek a binary of right and wrong. In reality, we are all sometimes right and sometimes wrong. The Internet lives forever, and the lack of grace we sometimes extend each other is appalling.
Finally, Twitter—and especially Facebook—have led to a rise in misinformation. For all of the wonderful things I’ve learned, for all of the people telling hard truths, for all of us trying to be our authentic selves, there are others who would game the system to spread misinformation and sow discontent. I suppose that’s human nature, too. The era of Yellow Journalism comes to mind for one.
For good or for bad, Twitter introduced me to some truly wonderful friends and helped me make important connections. It has especially helped out those from marginalized backgrounds, and I can’t help but wonder if that isn’t the real reason it’s being destroyed. Incompetence? Sure. Hubris? That’s definitely part of it. The fact the richest and the most powerful can’t stand it when others have a voice and call them out on their bullshit? Yeah, that’s a big part of it.
So, here I am feeling a little lost and lonely already, my fingers itching to scroll. In the long run, I’m sure this will be better for my word count and my posture, but it’s going to be a tough transition. I shall attempt—once again—to post regularly here, but it won’t be the same. Also? Blogging feels so…2007.
And, hey, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Twitter will somehow rise from the ashes and be even better. If so, I’ll meet you back at the cocktail party and gladly share the canapés of friendship and the goblets of justice.