I poked my head on to Twitter earlier — not to participate or engage, because I think I’ve well and truly broken my former addiction to it, but instead simply to share the article on Ys that I spent all day writing.
Literally immediately — and yes, I do mean literally — I saw someone indulging in one of the reasons I stopped wanting to use Twitter in the first place: pointless, unnecessary handwringing and guilt over things that were nothing to do with them.
The person in question, whom I had previously thought to be a fairly level-headed, rational sort of individual, went on an 8-tweet tirade about how awful the 4th of July was and how Americans enjoying and celebrating what has become nothing more than a holiday — regardless of its history — was somehow racist.
I closed the tab straight after I shared the link to my work, because frankly I don’t have time for that shit.
One might argue that it’s a good thing the Internet has supposedly made us all more socially responsible and aware of all the terrible things in the world — and perhaps it is. However, one thing the Internet very rarely does is actually do anything about these terrible things in the world. Whether it’s people changing their Facebook avatars to “raise awareness” for a charity (I think they’d rather have your bank details, thanks), someone painting their nails in protest against the amorphous concept of “toxic masculinity” or flaccid “protests” against whatever the issue du jour is, Internet activism achieves absolutely nothing whatsoever.
Actually, no, that’s not true — it does achieve something. But it’s not anything good.
The only thing Internet activism achieves is to drive wedges between people — alienating people from one another, and drawing very, very clear battle lines that you can only ever be on one side or the other of. Us and them. The “right side of history” and its respective “wrong side”. If you’re not with us, you’re against us. That sort of thing.
The inherently divisive nature of self-proclaimed activists’ behaviour online has had an overall enormously negative impact on online discourse as a whole. As I noted in my post where I decided to set Twitter aside, people who believe strongly in things (or at least consider themselves to believe strongly in things) have a tendency to take an “I’m right, you’re wrong” approach with no middle ground. And this is true for everyone who holds strong opinions on one thing or another, whether it’s “censorship” in games, the supposed epidemic of “misogyny” that the Internet is suffering, or who they think should win the Presidential election.
The general unwillingness to take other people’s perspectives into account has ruined all sense of rational discourse on social media. Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but it’s certainly soured the experience for me; social media of all types (with the exception of this blog, if that counts, which I don’t really feel it does) had just stopped being fun, and seeing that string of tweets today the moment I opened the Twitter page drove it home for me. There was a stark contrast between this and the private conversation I was having with my friend Chris at the time, whereby we disagreed on our opinions regarding the video game Limbo — he liked it, I hated it — and somehow, magically, managed to do so without feeling the need to convince the other person that they were wrong. We simply enjoy different things, and talking about those things you don’t have in common as much as the things you do makes for some of the most interesting conversations.
You can enjoy your life, or you can spend your time getting pointlessly angry about things and people on the Internet. I’ve got games to play and things to write, so I know which one I choose.