On social media and the need to scream into the void

I could have chosen any number of posts. I chose this one simply because it came across my feed as I was conceiving this piece. And, as always, they're the victim:

It used to be that you would go to the corner bar, grouse, and be ignored by the other patrons who simply wanted to have a drink and process their days. Hell, back in my youth, the missus and I would go to the late, great Jerry's Deli in Marina Del Rey. There was a couple there which hated Barack Obama. They'd go on and on, and we'd laugh at them, needle them, and that was it. They'd go on about their day, and we would ours. This was, oh, 2009-2011, before Twitter exploded, before Facebook became a thing. Yes, we disagreed, but it wasn't existential. (And yes, of course they were white.) And that was, at most, 5% of the interaction. 

What social media is is the corner pub where everyone goes, and is populated by the most insane and loud people who demand that you not only listen to their diatribes, but acknowledge their superior praxis. They demand that you not contravene their wisdom. They demand that you accept their ignorance as much as anyone's knowledge.

But really, what this is is that we are living through tumultuous times, and social media gives its users license to vent. To which I'm not opposed. What is this community that we've created? At its heart, it gives us license to vent, to grumble, to shake our fists. We are among friends, and Trev and I run a tight ship so that the screaming doesn't drown the community.

However, social media is absolutely unmediated. Moderation, such as it exists, is spotty. It allows everyone to give vent to their most insidious id, as long as they don't break the terms of service. And that's fine. But it highlights the moment in which we live.

The internet's democratization is, at best, a poisoned chalice. People who before had no reach beyond their circle now reach millions of people. Sometimes this can be good. But much of the time it's very bad indeed. Without the internet, toxic influencers like Hasan Piker would be anonymous people caviling to their immediate friends. And don't think for a moment that the likes of Piker are doing anything other than screaming into the void. The same with Joe Rogan. All these influencers, all these podcasters exist because they tap into the need to stand before the Abyss and screech into it, thinking that the Abyss will not respond. But the Abyss always does. And when it does, it traps you.

One doesn't need to think on an issue. One doesn't need a philosophy. One need only set up an account and begin posting. It doesn't matter if you don't know shit from Shinola. Engagement is all that matters. Getting likes and reposts is all the justification one needs. One finds a community of the like-minded. But what kind of community is that? Ephemeral, conditional. The internet can create community. But a community without rules, or with rules which oppress, will wither. We've seen that with the hundreds of communes which have sprung up in American history. Either they've simply faded like damp squibs, or they've turned to something dark. Social media is the latter. It takes all of its users screaming into the void and lies to them that they matter. That keeps the cash flowing. But it's a lie. Social media companies don't care about your well-being; you are the product, not the customer. But what they tell you is nothing but alluring. Make yourself heard! Make your voice count! Which is why people yell at elected officials as if they will bow to the will of random people screaming on Twitter.

We all need to be heard. We all need to not only feel, but know that our voices matter. And social media preys on that need. Its lie is that by being on their platforms, you will be part of the conversation. But you are, in fact, merely one drop in an ocean. And to make yourself heard, you become more radical, you become more outrageous. That doesn't move you to the front of the queue. But it does line the pockets of the billionaires who are counting the money which your engagement generates.

But perhaps that was inevitable. We are still an adolescent species. We are still self-centered, not really caring about anyone else. And our technology serves only to accentuate that reality. In the end, social media is not the answer to filling that sense of belonging. That can only be filled by talking to people as human beings, equal to you, not to be dominated by you. That would be a social media platform to build.