"Another day, another handful of friends and connections leave X."
I posted this on LinkedIn last Thursday, and on that day, the famous Bristol landmark, the Clifton Suspension Bridge left X too. It prompted a flurry of tweets ( I don’t want to say Xs) – “Wishing you all the support you need” and “I will never use your bridge again. I will simply swim. Goodbye,”- that reminded me of why I used to love Twitter. It was a fun place to hang out.
Trending toxic
I left back in 2022, pretty soon after Musk took over, and my feed went from benign to toxic. It was addictive, and nasty, and so I deleted my profile. I didn’t miss X – leaving was a relief – but I still missed Twitter a bit. I liked the chat, the recommendations from my friends, and the easy way to share links to content you wanted to share. There was a feeling that you were in on something good.
My reasons for leaving chimed with those given by the team running the Clifton Suspension Bridge account:
“X (formally known as Twitter) has been a wonderful place to engage with our audience over the past 15 years. But the changes made to the platform have made us reconsider our use of it. With the rise in inappropriate content and decrease in meaningful engagement with our followers, we have chosen to no longer post to this account.”
The Guardian newspaper left X last week too, stating:
“We think that the benefits of being on X are now outweighed by the negatives and that resources could be better used promoting our journalism elsewhere.…The US presidential election campaign served only to underline what we have considered for a long time: that X is a toxic media platform and that its owner, Elon Musk, has been able to use its influence to shape political discourse.”
"There's no FOMO associated with life without X."
And, of course, living without Twitter/X hasn’t stopped me from connecting with people or finding great content. There’s no FOMO associated with life without X.
A better life after X?
I think a lot of us feel a sense of weariness about social media. It makes your heart sink. We can’t be bothered with it any more. We can’t think what to say. We can’t see the point. And a sense of wariness. Who is reading this? Who is commenting on this? Why am I seeing this?
Is it better all round just to walk away?
Platforms like X, with its algorithms set for maximum shock/fear/outrage/ are deliberately addictive. They can make you miserable and suck hours from your life. Being less invested in social media has meant I’ve read more, written more and listened to more. What it’s done has made those activities more solitary again. Apart from the occasional post on LinkedIn, I don’t tend to share what I’m writing or reading. If I see you in real life, I’ll almost certainly want to know what books or podcasts* you’ve discovered, but the quick ‘have you seen this?’ on social media is a thing of the past. Sharing online doesn’t feel right any more.
And maybe that doesn’t matter. Maybe, in fact, it’s good. Even if we wouldn’t say we were addicted to social media, many of us are guilty of spending too much time scrolling. As my lovely friend and creative Sarah Rice commented:
“…socials are freaking me out in general at the moment as, on average, each of us in the UK spends 145 minutes a day on social media. Taking average emissions of 1.15gCO2e per minute, Greenspector calculates an individual’s use of social media generates 60kgCO2e per year. We generate a similar amount by driving the 535km between London and Edinburgh in a small car. Increasingly feels we are in trouble with this stuff on every level … don’t know if we need anymore channels!!”
Cutting back on social media isn’t just good for your mental equilibrium, it’s good for the planet. And I know, the odd post is nothing compared to millions of AI-generated bots pumping political misinformation into a system in order to crush democracy. Just like the occasional short haul flight is nothing compared to flying all over the world in your private jet. And yet, you can only control what you can control.
Need, or just miss?
So maybe I don’t look for something to replace X. After all, what exactly is it that I’m looking for?
What Twitter used to be great at was fuelling word of mouth recommendations, both personally and professionally. It was great for me as a marketer, and me as a reader. It was brilliant for signposting the way to interesting content and, for a digital platform, it felt very human. I made great business connections and real life friends on Twitter. During the pandemic, when we couldn’t meet up in person, the digital world was a lifeline.
Many of us would like a hub that mixes independent journalism, ideas, insights, connection, engagement, entertainment, fun. When I asked my LinkedIn connections where they went for this experience now – a very lively and thoughtful discussion – I had recommendations for Bluesky, Mastodon and Threads. But no one sounded totally convinced about any platform, and most were approaching them with a little caution.
Care to share
Time will tell if they turn into places people trust and want to hang out, or if we rediscover old ways to reconnect instead.
Maybe a return to smaller, closed communities is the way to go. Protect your ideas. Protect your personal data. Put your time and effort into creating content that you genuinely care about on a platform that you trust. Share it in good faith with people you know. Support your community.
I don’t know what the answer is. But like many of you, I’m watching and waiting to see what happens. In the meanwhile, here are some stories and discussion that have brightened my life recently.
Books
Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin
Strong Female Character by Fern Brady
Tell Me Everything by Elizabeth Strout
I Hope This Finds You Well by Natalie Sue
The Husbands by Holly Gramazio
Podcasts
The Rest is Entertainment
Off Air with Jane and Fi
Hidden Brain (thanks Liz!)
How to Fail
Older and Wider
Email newsletters
Heather Cox Richardson -Letter from America
Letters of Note
Nick Cave – The Red Hand Files
Oliver Burkeman – The Imperfectionist
What do you think?