Where Do We Go from Here?

Social media hasn't changed. But social media changed us.

It’s been incredibly difficult to write lately because of the dark shadow of war that permeates all. When thousands of people are being terrorized, kidnapped, and slaughtered, it’s hard to see how much else matters. It’s nearly impossible to find inspiration in that type of environment, especially drawn from a positive place.

The last time I felt this type of a creative block was 2020. Many of us found ourselves with more idle time on our hands, but the weight of the world’s affairs and the uncertainty of the future were debilitating. Many creators are naturally empaths so when the social tone is sadness, fear, and anxiety, we assume those emotions tenfold. It’s like wading through a current with your clothes on and stuffing more and more emotions into your backpack. It's doable, but it’s onerous. Everything moves in slower motion.

That doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about things. It’s actually quite the opposite. These days, I’m finding myself holding more space for rumination and analysis in my head than exercising it out loud on social media. Perhaps you do too…

I could attribute this to age and maturity, but I think many of us (especially if you’re in your 30s and 40s) are refraining from sharing our thoughts in the Internet public square. We were enthusiastic about the first shipment of Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram because of the means to make connections with strangers and delve into further friendships. On a community level, it was like the tech version of pen pals. The last ten years (and I obviously contributed to this), social media became a marketplace for business. People became brands and the point of a brand is to sell product. Whether selling a physical good or an idea or a presentation of self, we capitalized on socials to subjugate our “friends” as consumers. Consumers of content, at the very least.

Today, social media is powered by TikTok and Reels, which are different platforms with different mechanics. Only about 10% of TikTok users create content regularly and 5% of the content accounts for 75% of total consumption. Although users can interact with each other in the comments, TikTok is more like classical TV and traditional media. Unidirectional, entertainment-focused, and only a few people making stuff that the rest of the people consume. There’s nothing inherently wrong with any of this, of course, but it raises the question of where else the adults are spending their free time these days.

Last week, Wired published a piece entitled First-Gen Social Media Users Have Nowhere to Go. The essay begins, “A golden age of connectivity is ending.” I made it my top Instagram Story and fielded the responses throughout the day. I’m gonna quote a few of them here:

“I’m burnt out on all the platforms. Technically it’s supposed to make our lives easier so we have more time with friends and family. So we don’t have to work 50 hour weeks. I feel like in this moment it’s taking away from our relationship with ourselves. Connecting in the moment. Maybe this is a movement away from consuming so much.”

“I used to spend 18 hours a week on Twitter, now I spend 3.”

“insta is the only one i use any more. been off FB for almost a decade, twitter is trash now. nothing in the newer apps seems all that appealing, so i’ll chill with the other gen x’ers here on insta til the lights are off.

“I love not being on the internet even though I make my living or being on the internet”

“For me it’s like full time influencers have a shelf life of 3-5 years before they branch out into extending themselves into a brand or something different. This year for me was about mourning the fact that a big part of my career was done and I really didn’t want to let it go…I’ll obviously keep posting but my intentions and purpose has changed”

“So I think the biggest issue with social media is that it has lost its authenticity. What you used to be a creative outlet to just record your thoughts has now become a marketing machine to be seen or heard. Your bombarded with ads and influencers just wanting to make money or take your money. It’s loud and exhausting.”

Wired isn’t the only publication monitoring this shift. It’s been on my mind much of the year as I’ve found myself dramatically reducing personal usage on social media as well. My stats show that my screen time has fallen off a cliff. It wasn’t gradual.

In the past, there have been seasons where I’ve logged off my socials out of disgust and to prove a point. Around 2015, I stopped posting on social media for almost a year and a half (and it was one of the most productive work seasons of my life). But this time around, there was no conscious choice to subdue my Instagram content. It just…sorta…happened. And what’s more curious is that I have no feelings around it. Only apathy.¹

1.     Where is the social media consumer going?²

2.     Where does the social media creator go?

As a creator, this flight from social media means an even greater emphasis on quality product and meaningful work. There are no algorithms to twist and turn, no paid advertising parlor tricks to boost a signal. I think of my friend Greta Lee, who hasn’t been active on social media in years. Meanwhile, her career is exploding. She stars in the hit Apple series, The Morning Show, and is barreling towards Oscars season with her award-winning performance in A24’s Past Lives. She’s also carved out a presence in fashion, as the celebrity muse of designer Jonathan Anderson and the face of LOEWE.

I have another friend, a prominent actor, who deliberately abstains from social media because he is training his fandom to find him in the preferred venue: the movie theater. He doesn’t even do television shows for this reason. For my friend, the movie theater experience is integral to his public persona and how he wants his work considered. Plus, it’s where he makes his money. He even requests that his friends keep him off the Internet to the best of their abilities (I think there is something powerful in owning and crafting your image, especially as a public figure).

What if you’re a brand that is trying to reach the offline customer? When you ask ChatGPT what are best practices for marketing to this crowd, the reply is:

-       Email/Newsletters (which, is why Substack is in a strong position)

-       In-person events

-       Smarter, more innovative use of existing social media

While the last ten years have been about evangelizing beyond borders, aspiring to convert as many strangers into followers (and followers into disposable customers) through thin, manipulative, and ephemeral digital tactics, I believe the future will see a return to serving an existing clientele, building stronger bonds with repeat customers, and going personal and “local” as opposed to public and “universal.”

There may be proof of this already. Since the pandemic, we’ve organized and buried ourselves deeper into groupchats, WhatsApp/Telegram, Discord and DMs with genuine friends. I remember reading about this a lot in the run-up to Trump’s election in 2016. Some of the explanation as to why many experts couldn’t see Trump’s win on the horizon was because voters who were hesitant to outwardly sympathize with the controversial candidate were finding refuge in secret clubhouse chats. Today, many of us present our branded selves one way on mainstream social media, while we are freer to express how we really feel in private messages with people we trust and are invested in.

The Gaza crisis is an appropriate point to close the loop here. As social media is classified more as entertainment and a marketplace for business transactions (and less as a sandbox to make friends), it’s also open territory for war. We are watching the final act of social media mayhem play out around the impassioned opinions on the Israel/Hamas conflict. This is the culmination of weaponized algorithms (that exalt extremist and polarizing content) colliding with enemy bots and profit-seeking brands. For years, we’ve fucked around by pushing our humanity and honesty to the back and honoring conflict, narcissism, hyper-capitalism, and the loudest, most grating voices. And now, we’ve found out.

Social media is becoming a window into the horrors of our most monstrous selves. I’m not just talking about the graphic content of dead babies and obliterated hospitals, or even the videos of violent protests and fights over protest flyers. I’m talking about the way we are communicating with each other – the vitriol and malice, the self-righteousness and condemnation, the unwillingness to listen, the resistance to be open. Everyone is planted in their tribes, ballasted by hubris, defending ironclad hearts and storming into the battlefield with two coats of armor.

We started The Hundreds in the Summer of 2003 when Friendster launched. Friendster was a fun and amusing website where you could reunite with high school friends and tie up any loose ends from summer camp romances. MySpace was a watering hole for IRL friends. Later, Twitter was a court for sharing ideas – both profound and unserious, but always sharp and witty. Instagram was about creation and discovery. It’s staggering how we view social media today as a warzone, our estranged relationship with these platforms, how many of us feel obligated to participate, even when we’re cognizant that it’s harming us.

This strife will not end anytime soon and there will be more catastrophic events and divisive affairs that will steal the online conversation and pit us further against each other. Social media cleaved us in half and now halves of halves, “brother against brother,” until one world shatters into nations and nations become islands and islands are broken down into forts. I don’t see how the social landscape doesn’t become more treacherous, more flags and poles fencing us off from each other … It’s one thing to walk on eggshells, but now we’re tip-toeing around landmines.

In response, I imagine there will be a concerted retreat into warmer environments. Like the way hopeful movies and comedies surge in popularity during perilous times. The world can be a terrible place and sometimes survival means an escape, or at the very least, a distraction. That used to be social media for us. But now it’s turned the other way around.

If we can’t go home, but we don’t wanna stay outside, where do we go from here?

1. In brandbuilding, I believe that the worst thing that can happen with the customer is indifference. If the market is cheering your brand on, that means you’ve caught the spotlight. If the commenters are hating on you, at least you’re still triggering them, striking an emotional chord. But, if nothing excites or provokes them, then you’ve lost any chance of capturing their imagination. They’ve filled that void with another brand and it’s hard to work your way back into their awareness again. You’re an NPC.

2. I’ve done the digital demographics analysis on my personal brand to know that I don’t have much of a Gen Z subscriber base on my Substack. So, this isn’t necessarily intended for them. Over a quarter of TikTok users are under the age of 19, so they are very much immersed in that type of online social activity