Social media is no longer social

When I first started using social media, around the age of 12, I would sneak downstairs early in the morning to use the family computer before anyone else in the house was awake. All night, I’d lie awake anxiously waiting for daybreak so I could log on to Facebook or Moshi Monsters and see whether my friends had replied to a joke I’d made or continued the gossip we’d been discussing the day before. Back then, in the early 2010s, as I was first becoming aware of the internet’s possibilities; it felt like the main purpose (or at least, my main purpose) for being online was simply to talk to my friends.

Things have completely shifted now. My friends message me on Instagram or WhatsApp, and I can barely find the time or energy to reply. Earlier this year, I deleted TikTok from my phone – partly to deal with my phone addiction, but also to cut down the number of apps where people could reach me and to try to break the vicious cycle I’d fallen into: someone would message me, I wouldn’t reply, I’d feel guilty and apologise, they’d send me more messages and I still would not reply.

Narratives around being a ‘bad texter’ or ‘bad replier’ often blame the individual, framing it as an inherent flaw in a particular kind of person. In her article, ‘Why are some people so bad at replying to messages? The reality of navigating life as an awful replier,’ Lauren Geall (a self-proclaimed ‘bad replier’) reflects on this. Part of her believes it stems from anxiety: “The pressure of knowing what to say on the spot and feeling obliged to start a conversation without warning is strangely triggering to me.” Another part of her simply accepts it as part of who she is: “My shit replying is part of who I am... There are two types of people in this world, and no matter how hard you try, you are what you are.”

But what if it isn’t just who you are? Increasingly, it feels like more and more people are identifying as ‘bad repliers’ – not just the odd few you already knew to be flaky. What is the real root cause of our growing inability to reply to one another?

In his article for The New Yorker, titled “Mark Zuckerberg Says Social Media Is Over”, Kyle Chayka argues that social media has become “less social”. This isn’t just a vibe he’s picked up on while using the apps (though that vibe is accurate); it was confirmed by Mark Zuckerberg himself during the opening phase of the Federal Trade Commission’s antitrust trial against Meta last week. When asked about the company’s current focus, Zuckerberg said that it is now more about “entertainment and learning about the world and discovering what’s going on”. Chayka points out that this shift away from interpersonal communication has also been measured by Meta’s own data. During the defence’s opening statement, Meta displayed a chart showing that the “per cent of time spent viewing content posted by ‘friends’ has declined over the past two years, from 22 per cent to 17 per cent on Facebook and from 11 per cent to 7 per cent on Instagram”.

We’ve known for a long time that social media isn’t really about connecting us with each other. As my editor reminds me, if social media had ever truly been about fostering real connections, it would have encouraged us to step outside and meet people in our own communities rather than keeping us glued to our phones. In 2023, Brian X Chen wrote an article for The New York Times titled “The Future of Social Media Is a Lot Less Social”. In it, he notes that “Instead of seeing messages and photos from friends and relatives about their holidays or fancy dinners, users of Instagram, Facebook, TikTok, Twitter and Snapchat now often view professionalised content from brands, influencers and others who pay for placement.” Chen’s article was written before social media became completely inundated by AI slop, which, along with ads and sponsored posts, now makes these platforms even more overwhelming and unbearable to be on.

Social media may be isolating, but capitalism is even more so

It’s no wonder people are more hesitant to post in silly or unfiltered ways online. As Chen notes, social media feeds are now dominated by professionalised content, shifting these platforms away from spaces of fun and spontaneity into something that feels more like work. That shift, combined with a growing fear of surveillance, makes casual posting feel risky. It’s hard to share messy pictures from your night out when your boss follows you, or when a future employer might be scrolling through your feed. The line between our personal and professional lives has become so blurred that social media feels less like a place for genuine connection and more like a stage for curated performance.

Of course, what’s happening with social media right now isn’t the only reason people struggle to reply and connect with one another. As we get older, staying in touch with friends becomes more difficult and for many, it is less of a priority when late-stage capitalism leaves us drained and distracted. This is especially true for those of us who already spend our workdays staring at screens or whose jobs involve social media, leaving us with little desire to engage with it outside of work. Social media may be isolating, but capitalism is even more so.

But if social media isn’t about connecting with people anymore, then what is it even for? I’ve been reflecting on this a lot lately, especially after speaking with anti-tech writer and activist August Lamm earlier this year, who has been without her phone for nearly three years and is now living laptop-free, relying only on the computers at her local library. Lamm used to be an influencer, hooked on the dopamine high of posting and getting likes and comments – until she realised that social media was leaving her emotionally wrecked and socially isolated.

Speaking with Lamm made me question why I pick up my phone every day and why I post in the first place. Do I in some way contribute to people’s mental health struggles by participating in a culture that showcases every win, achievement or holiday? Maybe it sounds ridiculous to question something as harmless as sharing good news or celebrating how we look, but when you stop and really ask yourself why you post and whether the need you feel in posting is actually fulfilled by doing so, often to strangers, you might start to rethink not just what you share, but why and with whom. Especially when you’re posting all of this stuff and are still not responding to your friends.