Bothness and Doing Something
Chia
I have a conflicting and difficult relationship with social media — surely we all do by now, right? For me, holding onto the relationship has become hard to justify. The past year has been a new level of horrific in the social media sphere. We’ve seen things that no human should ever have to see, things that no human should ever have to experience; and yet, we have, and they are. Consequently, I’m feeling irks in myself — and they don’t sit right with me. I’m officially bothered. Like a rogue, gelatinous chia seed wedged in one's teeth, I can’t un-see it, and I’m hyper-aware of its being there — every second, minute, hour — until I dislodge the little fucker.
This is me dislodging.
In a world that feels very much on fire at the moment (quite literally - as I write this line, the temperature in Melbourne is 37 degrees) I worry that scrolling and posting and reposting has too easily becoming a coping strategy. You know, in light of all the AI, wars and genocides, and bright orange republicans? I wonder if it’s because we tell ourselves it makes us engaged and participatory. I wonder if it’s the same (well, no, it’s proven to be the same) as any old addiction; telling ourselves it’s fine, it’s harmless. Or telling ourselves it’s worth keeping around, hanging out for the moment it makes a difference.
Claire Dederer puts it so aptly in her book Monsters, talking about audience-ship; “This was a very specific way of being an audience — watching something compulsively, as if you could somehow change it or take responsibility for it by keeping your eyes on it. I remembered it from the two Gulf wars, and from 9/11… As if watching could Do Something.” At this current moment in history, I’m watching way too much and doing very little. Some days I’m paralysed, despondent, hopeless. My thumb is doing a lot. I’m not making a difference.
In Monsters, Dederer is interrogating what we should do with the work of monstrous male artists. But you can’t argue that most of what we witness and consume on social media isn’t at the hands of other monstrous men. The company heads who run these social media giants are… questionable? At best.
I told myself earlier this year that I was keeping social media for two reasons;
To promote my life drawing business (its own business account)
To stay informed, on my personal account. To not look away. To keep sharing, keep watching, keep engaged, particularly in light of the firsthand accounts surfacing from Gaza.
DO NOT LOOK AWAY
I’ve looked at it from other angles, but I’m no longer convinced that watching content is Doing Something. I wish so badly that it was. The voices that shout DO NOT LOOK AWAY nag at a deeper part of me, that part that knows what they’re really saying is, ‘If you look away, you’ll forget this is happening’. I’m referring, of course, to the ever-rising river of firsthand accounts that have taken to social media to exemplify the murder, displacement and human rights abuses suffered by their people; we’re seeing this mostly come out of Palestine, but there are hideous atrocities ransacking Sudan, Ukraine, Myanmar, Congo, Syria.
If I need to be looking at my phone — dependant on social media — to remind myself that others are suffering, there’s a real problem. If we need to see blown apart children to believe they are being blown apart, that is a real problem. If we need to see entire camps of people being burned alive to remind ourselves of the horror, that is a real problem. If I do not look away because I think watching is Doing Something — that is a real problem. And it can’t be fixed by more scrolling, double taps or shares.
I don’t mean to disregard the fact that, at the same time, this use of social media has cracked open people’s awareness and drive to respond across the globe. My feeling is that I’m not sure what we’re Doing with all this awareness is Something. We, the audience. We, the privileged. We, the cosy.
I read an article recently (from CNN, can you believe it) about this very reality; “Everyone’s getting a chance to tell their own stories,” Ahmed said. “People can tell for themselves … And it’s very hard to look away when you’re seeing somebody sitting in a pile of rubble, or if you’re seeing a five-year-old girl crying next to her father’s dead body.”
The article also notes, “Many of the images they share are so graphic that Instagram obscures them with “sensitive content” warnings.” A squeamish reminder that you can opt in or out; whether or not you want you look away, when confronted with the opportunity.
Seeing is believing
How horrifically heart shattering to think that there are people who know the world won’t pay attention to their suffering unless it is shoved under our noses, disrupting our feed; begging us to hear the cries of mothers and fathers and sisters and uncles and neighbours and children and the perpetual sound of fighter jets and crumbling buildings. That they have to hit share, then to discover that yes, we can see it, but seeing it isn’t stopping it. I ask myself this question often:
If I was in that situation, sharing the genocide of my people, the murder of my family, would I feel comforted by millions of people sharing that content to their Instagram stories? Would that actually make me feel any safer? Any less inconsequential? Or would the fact that they share it, and the bombs continue to drop, and the aid continues to be blocked, get really fucking old?
But I’m not in their position. I’m not sharing the murder of my people. What am I sharing? How can it possibly be worthwhile, in the midst of hellfire? It feels distasteful, ignorant, cruel to be interjecting snippets of my own life — family alive, children safe, next meal not far away — juxtaposing the rest of what we’re witnessing.
I’ve seen people say that the world is waking up. I think they mean we’re being made aware of the true nature of this world we’ve co-created; colonisation, capitalism, patriarchy, organised religion and power. We can see it now. We’re being shown what’s happening (despite the fact that marginalised, oppressed, abused and annihilated cultures have been speaking about this for… ever). On further reflection, it just proves to me that for most people, when in a position of privilege, only seeing is believing. “This bloody white bundle she hold in her arms, was her child.” Oh, now it’s real. Now we cannot look away.
In my arms, I hold my shame. An appalled witness, way too late.
I’ve told myself all of the things; oh, but sharing it ensures the content gets viewed by more people, it elevates people on the ground, it wakes people up to the atrocities taking place — well, yes. But then they, like you, like me, scroll on. Not because we don’t care, but because the algorithm always delivers on its one and only mission; to keep us there. And because, as unjust and uncomfortable and unforgivable as it is, our own lives continue. It is horrific to watch, feeling helpless, as glaciers melt, children are murdered, convicted criminals ascend to power, and multiple wars refuse to end, and just as horrific to have to switch operating systems to get the day done; to put the phone down, make dinner for the kids, read a book about delightful woodland creatures, tuck them into bed. Coo and cradle. Safe and sound. Safe. Sound. And privileged beyond comprehension. This is the discomfort of Bothness; of caring, and of carrying on. Social media, on my end, feels more and more like a cringe-worthy docu-series; me dangling the carrot of Bothness in the face of tragedy, one post to the next. Here, look at this; Gaza is the now deadliest place for civilians in the world. And here, look at this; I’m teaching Yoga. My posts (and others’) an absurdity of Bothness.
Good Intentions
True engagement has to go beyond watching. If watching was Doing Something, multiple genocides, criminals, and wars should have been stopped by now. It has not worked yet. Social media has successfully grasped everyone’s attention; it has shown us the need to act. What it has not grasped is a willingness to act (people do that, by actually Doing Something) Are we too busy — or distracted, sidetracked, derailed — to muster the willingness?
We might repost a thing to make others aware of its happening, and a few other people may be moved enough to repost it again. But I want to know how many of those people actually take action, for real? As in, off the couch, off the toilet, out of bed action. I tell myself that some will. I hope that most do. I know that most won’t. A lot of the time, I haven’t either
Posting motivates reposting, watching motivates liking, sharing motivates tapping. This is emotional gratification in action, stuck in loop. If I’m going to dislodge something, I’ve got to reflect on what’s actually true. Not what I wish was true. The next few sentences are hard for me to type:
For me as a user, posting what makes me feel sick to my stomach provided the emotional gratification (read: dopamine hit) I was unconsciously seeking (and encouraged to seek more of), because I could just get it out there. I could tell myself I’m being altruistic for a moment. In the meantime, I’m telling everyone else watching that I’m concerned about what’s happening (I think). I shout from the couch, from the toilet, from bed, I CARE.
… and then? A puppy playing with a duckling. An ad for beef tallow. The latest goat meme.
This is what’s wrong here; it’s not you or me wanting to stay informed. It’s what we’re hooked up to, what we’re informed by. It’s the thing that has us, forever redirecting our attention, without us paying any proper attention at all. I feel less like I’m ‘waking up’, and more like I’m paying proper attention. To quote Dederer again (because she’s brilliant and I won’t hear otherwise); “The world has always been broken. Even as we sat here, with our good educations and our good intentions, we were in the midst of learning a terrible lesson. We were learning that we were part of history after all.” Rephrase in the present tense for clarity.
I told myself I would keep social media, for Palestine, for Sudan, for the Earth, for etc… but I ask myself way too often, what the fuck am I doing on this here thing? It is notoriously unreliable, intentionally addictive, unbelievably central to most people’s lives, and very rarely good, no matter what the intentions.
Why I’m quitting (again)
Amidst all the current (and justified) hoo-hah surrounding the real influence of social media (and the probability of bans — maybe not justified, haven’t decided yet), I can’t help but wonder why we persist? If it "ruins lives", steals from realtime connection and focus, surges with advertising, causes addictions in the vulnerable, and amplifies megalomania… my question is… WTF are we even doing on social media anymore? By ‘we’, I mean me — what am I doing? This is firmly against everything I value. What is ‘the point’? Afterall, these are my feelings — well, no; these are my opinions. I’m trying to assess what my feelings say to me, getting louder and louder over the shiny, distracting, distressing moment-to-moment glitterscape of social media. Feelings (chia!) I may or may not happen to observe in the captions (teeth!) of others. It’s started to deeply irk me; this is the thing that I need to Do Something about — for myself, and surely for my children. Maybe it’s a tiny act for the good of humanity, because watching ain’t doing shit. Maybe more people will start to feel this too. Maybe more will tell me I’m jaded and wrong and cowardly.
After all, it’s a privilege to be able to unplug.
I’ve ditched social media before, and it was fantastic. I lost nothing of my Self. I didn’t lose touch with the world. I was deeper in it. I went back for business purposes and it hasn’t been worth it. You know what worked best? Flyers and word of mouth. Being good at what I do. Real, tangible, everyday things. There are multiple reasons why I’m quitting (again);
Meta. In and of itself. (It’s a good enough reason, no?)
Social media is the most antisocial engagement strategy that capitalism has pooped out of its vacuum thus far; it’s made people dependant on rectangular devices, convinced they need to prove their own existence. It’s designed to keep us engaged and distracted, affirming the belief that our businesses, or identities, will suffer (or cease to exist) without it. (Yuck. No. False.)
This is the first time that a social system that can ensure the ostracisation of people both using and not using it. (If you don’t use it, you’re forgotten about, left out, missing out. It will be interesting to see how these bans go for under 16s…)
People are so inundated with information and opinions, and most are unable to critically assess the information and opinions they’re absorbing. It’s too much. Media literacy is not where it should be, and they’re not teaching enough of this shit in schools to prepare our young people. (Exhibit A: *points to an image of Andrew fucking Tate*) End of story.
We don’t get to choose what our kids get fed. We don’t get to ignore the fact that loneliness is an epidemic, and it’s on the rise, particularly in young people. Social media is a low-touch, inauthentic connection base; it’s seriously limited. ‘Followers’ are a symptom of a lost society, seeking something outside of themselves, and people happily capitalise on that dependency. Fact.
Our children’s identities are being violated on social media — yes, even in private accounts.“Earlier this year it was reported that the privacy of Australian children was being violated on a large scale by the artificial intelligence (AI) industry, with personal images, names, locations and ages being used to train some of the world's leading AI models,” writes the ABC, in an article published one week ago. (No, thanks. As a parent, I’m not willing to risk my kids privacy, autonomy and identity on a technology I don’t even properly understand)
I’ve had to consider that if I just want to share from my experiences, or to share photos with close family and friends, it may not be the right (nor safest) place to share anymore. (Enter newsletter, blog, website. Old school charm)
I’m really sick of reading (mostly white) people’s rants about the system, and decolonising, and rejecting capitalism, via a platform that ENSURES it’s proliferation. I’m annoyed because I’ve been there, done that, and the hypocrisy STANK. If we want to actually, in real life destroy and encourage the questioning of those systems — maybe we can’t use them to boost our follower counts, which we then can’t bare to lose. You see the vicious cycle, right?
I know social media is a resource; it’s a platform to get good messages and good information out there — it’s also a rabbit hole for bad messages and terrible information, and there’s zero accountability and no roadmap. Until this changes and improves, it’s a grain of salt I can do without.
Social media is advertising. It’s (very effectively) trained people to promote themselves, just, like, eating their breakfast. Gotta promote our existence to people, lest we forget. If you’re a business, you’re advertising. If you’re a private user, you’re being advertised to. If you like certain content, the algorithm will send you more of that kinda stuff, because it’s learning to sell you what you want; whether it’s information, inspiration, items or idiots. We know this. I’m not saying don’t advertise your business, I’m saying let’s call it what it is — we’re uploading our selves into a marketing stream where the loudest (and boost-est) voice gets heard — not necessarily the most correct, or true, or ethically sound (Exhibit B: *another photo of Andrew Tate*)
Content creators spend most of their time on a screen. I had a friend who was an ‘influencer’ (debatable) I couldn’t have a conversation with her actual face, because of the phone she held up between us. At all times. “Sorry, just checking….” I’ve had friends who aren’t content creators, and it’s the same thing. They’re hooked. Trapped, even. Real time is secondary. The Now isn’t happening, unless we post a photo to say it is. I’m keenly aware that the time I spend on social media is time I will never get back. And it will never give back to me.
Peak Hour Life
Like any shitty, one-sided relationship, I don’t know that this amounts to anything worth keeping in my life. To be honest, I feel like I’m tentatively stepping outside of a cult. And after going back multiple times, something has shifted this time — and I think it’s the world. My mammalian brain sensing it may be time to adapt, to pay proper attention.
I want to trust myself enough to stay engaged with the real life world by being in it. I’ll continue to show up important causes with my person. I’ll spend my time in ways I choose, not dictated by an algorithm that hijacks any given moment with trending content. I will get tired, but not stolen from.
I said before; it’s a privilege to be able to unplug. But I’m not looking away. I don’t want to look away; I do want to know. But not like this. Not as an audience member, being broadcast to. Contrary to what we’re told, social media is not the only source of connection and information. I want to get out of my cosy position, stop doom-scrolling, stop scrolling altogether, show up in real ways, live a real life that shows my children this is how it’s done — not like a train trip in peak hour where every single person is looking down and plugged in.
In a plugged-in world where other people only exist if they’re there on our screens, I’ll be frolicking in the margins of non-existence — because the real world exists there, spinning. Not scrolling. Do not stop talking about it! Do not stop asking questions! Do not stop caring! Ceasefire now! Ceasefire now! Ceasefire now! There are flowers to be smelled! There are letters to be sent! There are rallies to attend! There is CHIA in everyone’s teeth — we cannot keep walking around like this.