We killed Instagram. And we’ll kill the next social media beast, too.
In 2010, we were given a platform that did relatively few things: You could edit photos and post them on a grid, and your friends could comment on them. Even then we wanted it to change. We wanted DMs and Instagram Stories and more editing options and better search and an explore page. Tech executives wanted us addicted to it, wanted us to crave it, wanted it to be a necessary tool in our everyday social existence so advertisers would be able to reach us and
But over the past few weeks, what started as a complaint a decade ago has become a
Adam Mosseri, the head of Instagram, addressed the criticism in a video, and in an interview with tech reporter Casey Newton, he said
The trouble with an abundant audience
In the early days of social media, we used the platforms to “have fun and be ridiculous and post stuff for what you probably understood to be a limited audience,” Aimée Morrison, an associate professor in the department of English language and literature at the University of Waterloo, told Mashable. Our friends saw our posts, but that was about it.
“The content was abundant, but the audience was not abundant. You imagined that nobody was interested,” Morrison said. Social media has gotten a lot more noxious since then. “Now anyone is like one Google search away from, ‘Oh my God.'” You’re one Google search away from being
Before, there was content in abundance, but there was not self-consciousness in abundance.
I find myself missing the internet before the audience — the world in which we would go out to a party and someone would bring their shitty digital camera, and we would take 40 pictures, and every single terrible one would be posted to a Facebook album; a world in which I would write “miss you babe!” on my friends’ wall a moment after she left my house. I miss the freedom of being seen only by my immediate friend group, and the freedom of not being forced to conform to an aesthetic that would grow to form not only who we are but what we buy, where we travel, who our friends are, and what our jobs are (or aren’t).
“We’re always in some ways curating the version of ourselves that we are presenting,” Morrison said. “Before, there was content in abundance, but there was not self-consciousness in abundance. It was more carefree, and we weren’t thinking about all the possible audiences, the revenue opportunities, or the firing opportunities. We were heedless of consequence in ways that ultimately we had to give up, because the real world always comes for our social media eventually.”
A world ruled by the algorithm
As a human teenager, I do remember fearing how the setup of my
In part, that’s because we’ve moved away from the social media of abundance, “when people would post 50 photos from one night out and then 20 people would respond with inside jokes,” as
Recommendation media was never meant to be a place for connection; it was intended to provide a space for exploration, innovation, and knowledge, but it has somehow thwarted all three and left us craving our dearly departed social media of abundance. So, I went searching for her. I wanted to find where the social media of abundance lay, and asked her how she died,
The perpetual cycle of social media hell
During the startup, venture capital phase of a social media platform, Morrison says the most important thing is user growth, which incentivizes platforms to build something that users actually like. But the platform is being built off of “imaginary money,” because it comes from venture capital, which will eventually run out.
“Once you hit a certain threshold of users and ubiquity and you think people are invested in your site, you start to run ads and you start to farm data from your users,” Morrison said.
When we first start using a platform, we get
Once money enters the room, the art gets impacted.
“The algorithm always changes when the focus becomes about money and using advertising as a source of said revenue,” Merritt said. “That’s the business model of social: to have an algorithm in the beginning that is rewarding to all, and then once you have all the users and you’ve gotten people addicted to using the app on an ongoing basis, the model changes.”
So platforms start bringing in revenue via ads, and “the most effective way to do that is to start to decrease the organic reach that’s happening for users,” Merritt said. “Once money enters the room, the art gets impacted.”
People are brands, and everything sucks
In 2010, in the beginning of Instagram, we posted all the time, and we rarely saw ads. Then ads started taking up space, influencers started producing sponsored content, and eventually we stopped posting on the grid as often with the knowledge that our content wasn’t going to be seen by our friends. We’ve begun viewing more content than we’re sharing while still spending
“You’re competing with brands, you’re competing with influencers and that stuff is generated to go to the top,” Amanda Brennan, a meme librarian and senior director of trends at the digital marketing agency XX Artists, told Mashable.
Now there are new (unofficial) rules of Instagram,
No filters (few exceptions)
Insta stories [are] casual
No instagram birthday shout outs
Never post on time for a real post (stories too sometimes)
Comments mandatory (attendance taken + points for originality)
Must respond to all polls
Spam accounts + finstas private
Whether you follow those or not, the new rigidity of social media makes us all act as if we’re our own brand. Our aesthetic has to be curated. Everything has to be so slay all the time. Social media has become a job for all of us, and most of us aren’t getting paid.
“Part of the reason why social media doesn’t feel fun is because the communication around it is: ‘You’re a brand. Everyone is their own brand. Everyone is their own television network. You should be making videos,'” Merritt said. “All this pressure to produce not only content but a high level of content in conjunction with living your actual life.”
The future doesn’t look great
Knowing why our social media of abundance is gone, it feels inevitable that we’ll never get her back. We’re existing in a cyclical social media world: We join a platform we love, ruin it, and leave, only to join another platform we love and do the same thing.
“It’s a human, psychological thing,” Morrison said. Tech companies are tapping into a real need we all have for belonging, for community, and for dopamine hits. And they’re exploiting it. As soon as users find what they’re looking for, it’s taken away from them and replaced with revenue avenues for the tech companies, instead.
Eventually we all become aware of being turned into donkeys, and it makes us self-conscious, and we clam up until the next one.
“It’s a startup-to-developed company cycle that’s gonna happen over and over and over again,” Morrison said. “If you are not paying for it, you are the product. And eventually we all become aware of being turned into donkeys, and it makes us self-conscious, and we clam up until the next one.”
Taking a good thing and making it just a little bit worse is a natural part of the human condition. Think about frozen yogurt in