Whilst we agonise over which horsemen of the apocalypse to fear most, social media destroys our ability to deal with the challenges they herald
In 2011, whilst working at Dumfries and Galloway College, my attention was drawn to a video on YouTube.
The style of the video was something of an homage to an iconic Dylan film made for the song Subterranean Homesick Blues. A young man—standing in for Dylan—holds a pack of handwritten placards which he impassively discards one by one, at every stage adding substance to his central theme: You Need to Get Off Facebook.
Somewhere about placard ten is revealed the message: You don’t have 852 friends. And then on the next placard: You have about 4. And the next: And that’s good. The latter placard adds a hand-drawn smiley face.
It was a witty piece I thought, and timely, given that in my work as a College lecturer I was being exhorted to explore Facebook as an educational tool. Indeed, the impact of Facebook was a hot issue amongst College lecturers at the time— though no one, so far as I can recall, was thinking it one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse.
Prompted by the video I had seen, I drafted an article intending to submit it to the Scottish Colleges Broadcast magazine. In this article I wrote:
Facebook elicits strong feelings in both staff and students. Many lecturers have a Facebook account, but the tension between Facebook and the curriculum is a theme commonly discussed in the workroom, with the former generally being considered to the detriment of the latter.
I go on to report that I played that video to one of my classes. Here’s what I said on the matter.
The video contains mildly adult content but, I decided, nothing that would remotely shock my Intermediate 2 IT class. The group are heavy-duty users of Facebook. Indeed I sometimes think it is their lifeblood, such is my own struggle to compete. They watched the video with fairly stony faces, but notably with absolute attention. At the end of this blast of the Curriculum for Excellence, there were no comments and I hardly dared ask them what they thought about it.
That’s Scotland’s Curriculum for Excellence, by the way, designed to encourage unorthodox approaches to engaging students.
My article was never published. The editor to whom I sent it appeared to think that more detailed research was required to support the things I was suggesting—not all of them negative, by the way. But whilst I had found time to draft the article, research was quite another matter. The article sat gathering virtual dust until I was reminded of it when I watched a documentary which has recently become available on Netflix, titled The Social Dilemma.
This documentary was originally released in 2020 and yet, given recent widespread discussion arising from the existential threats posed by AI, I was struck by how relevant the central argument of The Social Dilemma remains.
The structure of the documentary is stark and simple. Its central feature is a series of testimonies, each speaker simply framed, often in a domestic setting, sometimes in a studio. Every participant has been either a key figure in the development of social media—for example Tristan Harris, ‘former Google design ethicist’—or has become a significant commentator, such as Jaron Lanier, ‘computer philosophy writer, computer scientist, visual artist, and composer of contemporary classical music.’ A full list of the contributors, men and women, is provided on the Wikipedia page for the documentary. [1]
An integral feature of the Documentary is an imagined family drama shown in segments spread out amongst the interviews. For me this was a somewhat clunky element. Yes, it was well acted and filmed but its narrative at key points was unconvincing. And yet, a central device in this narrative—the personification of the social media algorithm—effectively dramatised a process buried deep within the computational heart of social media.
A synthesis of all the arguments presented makes a simple and compelling case.
Our attention, via targeted advertising, is what makes money for the social media companies. The algorithm which drives social media has become increasingly refined and unscrupulous in its ability to capture our attention, to the point of addiction.
The list of stimuli which most effectively turn us away from what we set out to do is fairly predictable: titillation, cuteness, celebrity, scandal, etc., etc. The truth or rationality of any messaging attached to these stimuli is of no concern to the algorithm. The same search will generate a different response, depending on the individual who has entered it. Your particular stimulus vulnerability does not go unnoticed or unrecorded. Indeed, it is exploited.
It is by this process of targeted messaging that we find our way into separate virtual worlds, worlds which do not connect with one another or challenge our thinking.
And by the way: brevity is of the highest value in the algorithmic fight for attention. A long-winded argument—such as this one—will struggle to gain traction.
Central to the documentary was the argument that social media has systematically degraded our ability to deal constructively and cooperatively with the great challenges facing our civilisation. Climate change; nuclear war; environmental collapse; or whatever the matter may be. We find ourselves divided into mutually exclusive sub-groups each believing something entirely at odds with the others.
This is not to say that truths do not exist and it is in our nature to believe that we are on the right track. But without a conscious effort to step outside the siloed character of our world, our “truth” is never properly tested.
Stepping aside from the world of social media seems like a useful first step in correcting this appropriation of our attention. That, however, is not as easy as it might seem.
Following a tentative entry into the world of social media way back in 2011, I remain an uneasy participant. I find that it helps me to keep an open channel with at least some good friends with whom I might otherwise lose contact. I also sometimes use it to extend the reach of my blog posts. I ocassionally get caught up in discussion in comment threads—which, just as they become interesting, recede into some obscure backwater.
But there are probably better ways to achieve all of this: email, WhatsApp for groups, perhaps. Not so long ago I removed the Facebook app from my phone as I could see it was causing me low level stress. Perhaps now I need to think about deleting my account entirely.
I’m working on it.
Endnotes
You Need to Get Off Facebook This is the same video though it now sits under a different URL.
Bob Dylan Subterranean Homesick Blues (Official Video) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MGxjIBEZvx0
Facebook – A Medium Which Must be Taken Seriously The draft article from 2011, referred to above, may be viewed here.
References
[1] The Social Dilemma—Wikipedia page
The Long, Slow Death of Attention
Whilst we agonise over which horsemen of the apocalypse to fear most, social media destroys our ability to deal with the challenges they herald
In 2011, whilst working at Dumfries and Galloway College, my attention was drawn to a video on YouTube.
The style of the video was something of an homage to an iconic Dylan film made for the song Subterranean Homesick Blues. A young man—standing in for Dylan—holds a pack of handwritten placards which he impassively discards one by one, at every stage adding substance to his central theme: You Need to Get Off Facebook.
Somewhere about placard ten is revealed the message: You don’t have 852 friends. And then on the next placard: You have about 4. And the next: And that’s good. The latter placard adds a hand-drawn smiley face.
It was a witty piece I thought, and timely, given that in my work as a College lecturer I was being exhorted to explore Facebook as an educational tool. Indeed, the impact of Facebook was a hot issue amongst College lecturers at the time— though no one, so far as I can recall, was thinking it one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse.
Prompted by the video I had seen, I drafted an article intending to submit it to the Scottish Colleges Broadcast magazine. In this article I wrote:
I go on to report that I played that video to one of my classes. Here’s what I said on the matter.
That’s Scotland’s Curriculum for Excellence, by the way, designed to encourage unorthodox approaches to engaging students.
My article was never published. The editor to whom I sent it appeared to think that more detailed research was required to support the things I was suggesting—not all of them negative, by the way. But whilst I had found time to draft the article, research was quite another matter. The article sat gathering virtual dust until I was reminded of it when I watched a documentary which has recently become available on Netflix, titled The Social Dilemma.
This documentary was originally released in 2020 and yet, given recent widespread discussion arising from the existential threats posed by AI, I was struck by how relevant the central argument of The Social Dilemma remains.
The structure of the documentary is stark and simple. Its central feature is a series of testimonies, each speaker simply framed, often in a domestic setting, sometimes in a studio. Every participant has been either a key figure in the development of social media—for example Tristan Harris, ‘former Google design ethicist’—or has become a significant commentator, such as Jaron Lanier, ‘computer philosophy writer, computer scientist, visual artist, and composer of contemporary classical music.’ A full list of the contributors, men and women, is provided on the Wikipedia page for the documentary. [1]
An integral feature of the Documentary is an imagined family drama shown in segments spread out amongst the interviews. For me this was a somewhat clunky element. Yes, it was well acted and filmed but its narrative at key points was unconvincing. And yet, a central device in this narrative—the personification of the social media algorithm—effectively dramatised a process buried deep within the computational heart of social media.
A synthesis of all the arguments presented makes a simple and compelling case.
Our attention, via targeted advertising, is what makes money for the social media companies. The algorithm which drives social media has become increasingly refined and unscrupulous in its ability to capture our attention, to the point of addiction.
The list of stimuli which most effectively turn us away from what we set out to do is fairly predictable: titillation, cuteness, celebrity, scandal, etc., etc. The truth or rationality of any messaging attached to these stimuli is of no concern to the algorithm. The same search will generate a different response, depending on the individual who has entered it. Your particular stimulus vulnerability does not go unnoticed or unrecorded. Indeed, it is exploited.
It is by this process of targeted messaging that we find our way into separate virtual worlds, worlds which do not connect with one another or challenge our thinking.
And by the way: brevity is of the highest value in the algorithmic fight for attention. A long-winded argument—such as this one—will struggle to gain traction.
Central to the documentary was the argument that social media has systematically degraded our ability to deal constructively and cooperatively with the great challenges facing our civilisation. Climate change; nuclear war; environmental collapse; or whatever the matter may be. We find ourselves divided into mutually exclusive sub-groups each believing something entirely at odds with the others.
This is not to say that truths do not exist and it is in our nature to believe that we are on the right track. But without a conscious effort to step outside the siloed character of our world, our “truth” is never properly tested.
Stepping aside from the world of social media seems like a useful first step in correcting this appropriation of our attention. That, however, is not as easy as it might seem.
Following a tentative entry into the world of social media way back in 2011, I remain an uneasy participant. I find that it helps me to keep an open channel with at least some good friends with whom I might otherwise lose contact. I also sometimes use it to extend the reach of my blog posts. I ocassionally get caught up in discussion in comment threads—which, just as they become interesting, recede into some obscure backwater.
But there are probably better ways to achieve all of this: email, WhatsApp for groups, perhaps. Not so long ago I removed the Facebook app from my phone as I could see it was causing me low level stress. Perhaps now I need to think about deleting my account entirely.
I’m working on it.
Endnotes
You Need to Get Off Facebook This is the same video though it now sits under a different URL.
Bob Dylan Subterranean Homesick Blues (Official Video) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MGxjIBEZvx0
Facebook – A Medium Which Must be Taken Seriously The draft article from 2011, referred to above, may be viewed here.
References
[1] The Social Dilemma—Wikipedia page
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About Stephen Shellard
I am a retired College lecturer, having worked originally in supported programmes but latterly having taught social science subjects, Psychology and Politics, though my degree was in Sociology. I am from Newry in Northern Ireland, but now live in Dumfries in South West Scotland. https://carruchan.blog/about/