An influencer, I am not.
The first time I heard that word, I thought, “That’s a job now?” For all their talk about authenticity, the most prominent influencers seem to be those who curate their personae for the market. But what do I know?
Let me recount my social media journey . . .
The Facebook
Sometime in 2009, I became annoyed because Tom was spending more and more time on Facebook. This was not accidental. Facebook introduced the “like” button that year and saw engagement skyrocket. I remarked, “You know that Facebook friends aren’t your real friends, right?” A while later, we attended the lovely wedding of one of our favorite students. In the reception line, I found out my husband had become famous in real life: “Oh, you’re the Tom who comments on Meghann’s Facebook all the time? Nice to meet you!” Huh.
I gave in. I created a Facebook account and—not knowing what I was doing—clicked on “Yes” when prompted “do you want to import your contacts?” Since my Northwestern University students often used my personal email account to message me, I ended up with FB friends from several undergrad cohorts. Which is kind of nice now as I see their lives unfold . . . weddings celebrated, children birthed, and the sad passings of beloved parents and pets. Also, I found my far-flung cousins on Facebook, theatre colleagues from the 1970s, and grammar school friends. I posted photos of my food. I was officially on Facebook.
The happy days didn’t last long. In 2011, Facebook switched from chronological listing to algorithmic sorting of posts. Friends’ posts no longer appeared in a person’s News Feed as they were written. Instead, when someone uploaded a post, it was submitted for algorithmic scoring before it appeared on Facebook. The algorithm (which has become more sophisticated over time) predicts which posts are likely to receive the most engagement; those are prioritized in the News Feed. Users began complaining that they saw fewer of their friends’ posts.
Small businesses and activist groups considered a presence on Facebook to be a necessity. Individual users also saw benefits. For example, my family wouldn’t have attended the Women’s March in 2017, if not for FB. Plus, we supported our favorite donut shop, Jersey Shore cafe, and Pilates teachers by connecting on the platform. I found out when my friends were safe after evacuations for wildfires and hurricanes. But, as time went on, the cost of engagement rose.
Facebook doesn’t have a data breach scandal. Facebook has a data breach timeline. And good luck relying on their privacy and security settings to protect your account. For example, I turned off “location services” because I don’t want FB tracking me. But guess what? They do it anyway. Buried (four levels deep) within the privacy settings is the company’s explanation:
When Location Services is turned off, we may still estimate your location using things like check-ins, events and information about your internet connection.
Specific location information like your device's GPS signal and connection information like your Wi-Fi connection or IP address (internet protocol address) help us understand where you are. Your IP address is a unique number assigned to a device, like a phone or computer, that allows it to communicate over the internet. Numbers are assigned according to standard guidelines, or protocols. Just like you need a mailing address to receive a letter from a friend, your device needs a digital address to receive information on the internet.
We use this information to provide more relevant and personalized experiences, protect your account, and provide better ads.
Oh, you think you’re providing me with better ads, do you Facebook? The last time I responded to a Facebook ad, the supplier claimed they were US-based and promised quick delivery. When I didn’t receive my purchase, I tried tracking the parcel. My goods allegedly left Shanghai and then got stuck in Customs in Hong Kong. I never received the items; the supplier never responded to my emails. Facebook, of course, eschews liability.
The inside story of Facebook’s growing toxicity was revealed by Frances Haugen, a product manager in their Civic Integrity Group. According to company information that Ms. Haugen provided to the government, algorithmic changes in 2018 led directly to increased hate speech and misinformation on the platform. A new scoring system applied to posts by the revised algorithm gave less weight to “likes” and higher scores to emoji reactions and reposts. Facebook’s own internal research found that “misinformation, toxicity, and violent content are inordinately prevalent among reshares” which fuel reactivity and sustain engagement. “It’s easier to inspire people to anger than it is to other emotions,” Hagen said. She called for government regulation of social media. I second the motion.
The Twitter Machine
My attempts to engage on Twitter were pathetic. Since few of my written thoughts are expressed in 140 characters or less, it didn’t seem a good match. But Substack kept encouraging me to automatically share Grounded articles on Twitter “to optimize my Substack publication” and improve my “writer credibility on Google.” So I tried.
In three months, I attracted 27 followers and produced 36 tweets. Two visitors from Twitter stopped by Grounded. A couple of snarky comments I made on some breaking news got retweeted and that was the high point of my success on Twitter. Then Musk greased the gears that powered the winch that pulled the rope that opened the portcullis to the Vandals and the Visigoths. Elmo said, “Hi, Nazis!” and I said, “Bye, Twitter!”
Clearly, latecomers to the bird site are . . . latecomers. And I didn’t really understand the significance of Twitter celebrity until I waded through the recent deluge of “Why I’m leaving Twitter” and “Why I’m not leaving Twitter” articles. Media and entertainment figures, in particular, have been agonizing publicly over whether to stay/go. (See, for example, here, here, here, and here.) Losing Twitter followers equates to losing status and relevance in the world, for some people.
Journalists and writers have the strongest incentives to stay on Twitter. The economic contraction of journalism and publishing has squeezed practitioners and disrupted the traditional gatekeeping functions of agents and editors. Many media professionals are mandated to have social media accounts. Covering trending stories on Twitter is considered an integral part of journalism today. In addition, writers promote their written work and indicate interest in future assignments by posting consistently on Twitter. This works out for those who have been on the platform for a decade and know what will get attention. Success depends on understanding the Twitter game and playing it well. It also assumes a modicum of platform stability.
Twitter and Facebook face similar challenges. Thoughtful moderation is necessary to maintain a minimum of civility; however, the companies’ economic model (“the users are the product”) prioritizes engagement—which amplifies misinformation and hate speech. Investments in content moderation, privacy protection, and cyber security (crucial, necessary expenditures from the users’ perspective) significantly reduce corporate profits. And the history of capitalism leads us to think . . . owners will choose profits over people unless forced to do otherwise.
CounterSocial
CounterSocial was recommended by some Twitter escapees as a more pro-social alternative. Believe it or not, I actually read through the entire Terms of Service and Privacy Policies of the platform before I signed up. Having learned a few lessons along my social media journey, avoiding the bad stuff is now a priority. The upside of a well designed social media environment is the possibility for connection with new readers—and if I can find a supportive online community, all the better!
CounterSocial’s structure and policies address the deficiencies of the for-profit social media platforms. There are no ads or evil algorithms. Moderation and funding are community-based; CoSo’s technical wizard builds in rigorous privacy protections and security functions. There are rules. (Some controversy exists regarding the origins and growing pains of CounterSocial; you may want to consider this and judge for yourself.)
CounterSocial (CoSo) takes a zero-tolerance stance to hostile nations, bot accounts, trolls, provocateurs, and abuse. This includes users participating in cyberbullying, astroturfing, gaslighting, baiting, sealioning, and dis/misinformation campaigns. Hate speech and harassment are also prohibited. While CoSo will block obvious offenders, tools are provided to mute/block any user or filter any keyword that you find offensive or unwanted in your personal view.
Here are my initial reactions since joining CounterSocial about three weeks ago:
Getting started on CounterSocial involves a steeper learning curve than FB or Twitter. I found the CounterSocial Layout Guide quite helpful. The CoSo User Guide is a must.
Folks are really nice here!
CoSo people are interested in lots of music, cooking, science, writing, as well as news and sports. They love cats. And dogs.
CoSo doesn’t seem to have a ranking system. There is more emphasis on social interaction, helpfulness, and creativity.
They have a Welcome Wagon! This note from a CoSo member was waiting for me when I first signed on:
A warm welcome to the oasis of sanity & fun that is CoSo.
Hang out by the Community Firehose, strike up or join in a conversation or holler for /#help.
Most of all, ENJOY
CounterSocial is my new social media home. Stop by and say hello! @Mj_Osa
No notes this week. Click the hyperlinks for sources.
Thanks for the info about CounterSocial; I hadn't heard of it. I'm loath to join new (to me) social platforms: I can't keep up with my feeds now (as the proprietor of Grounded no doubt knows), and I would be compelled to read all of the T&C's. It's so time-consuming! If I were a journalist, or writer, that would be different, but I have the luxury to emphasize quality over quantity.