In recent years, we've become increasingly quiet on social media. Sometimes it's because we're too lazy to open the app, and sometimes it's simply because we feel like there's nothing much to say. That feeling of not wanting to share has slowly become a tacit understanding.
This article was inspired by ThreadsAccording to BBC reportWhy did our friends stop posting on social media〉.
It mentioned that social media is undergoing a change——It has changed from a place for communication between friends to a place where content is played.
When algorithms start deciding for us what is worth seeing, we also begin to doubt: Is it still necessary to post?
The evolution of social media: from sharing daily life to broadcasting programs
The BBC quoted New Yorker writer Kyle Chayka's observation:One-third of users are posting less than last year, particularly those from Generation Z.
People are gradually stopping sharing their lives because those authentic moments are getting less and less attention. What's left on screen are brand promotions, influencer marketing, and algorithmically-driven content.
Social media has become a TV you never turn off. You think you're watching friends, but you're actually just catching up on a TV show. Social media posts stop appearing because too many people are watching and too few are listening.This is also a true reflection of the social fatigue of Generation Z.
Why is the community no longer "social"?
In the past, Facebook and Instagram were little message boards for friends, extensions of life. Everyone would casually snap a photo, type a short message, and leave a smiley face.
But now, when we open the social network, we scroll and consume without really communicating.
The entire social world is increasingly like a playlist. We’re skating to a show arranged by an algorithm, not the lives of our friends.
The TV that never turns off is broadcasting everyone's silence.
AI content flooding: When empathy can be replicated
Not to mention, AI content is flooding into various platforms.
Threads, Reels, TikTok—you can see fake dogs, fake stories, fake tears. Many of those moments that seem real are actually fabricated.
I am also a heavy user of AI, but sometimes I wonder: when even emotions can be mass-produced, what else belongs to humans?
When empathy can be replicated and truth can be mass-produced, there will be more and more stories of people being cheated of their tears and having their emotions stolen.And every time we mistakenly think that we are understood, we may be losing trust in being understood again and again.
I'm a heavy user of AI myself, but this change still makes me uneasy. As it becomes increasingly difficult to discern the person behind the text, the value of "real experience" is also being diluted.
We think AI helps with creation, but to some extent, it also makes "empathy" a commodity.
It can be produced, packaged, and released, but it is no longer a naturally generated emotion between people.
Creators’ Anxiety and Responsibility: We Have Also Become Program Producers
When Threads first appeared, I felt like I had rediscovered my authenticity. It was a place where people could speak freely and understand each other. But as the platform grew and commercialization took hold, that sense of freedom quickly faded.
I also began to doubt myself - was I also swept up in this trend? Was I also a "program producer"? And was the program I produced good?
We no longer simply share, but instead carefully consider: Can this story be understood? Will it be misunderstood?
What can be said and what cannot be said? It is safe, but it also loses depth.
I think this is also part of the so-called "creator anxiety".
Community silence is not just a problem for the audience, but also a sign of fatigue for the creators.
We're reenacting The Truman Show
The protagonist in "The Truman Show" is being watched by the whole world, yet he is completely unaware of it. His life is being programmed, packaged, and sold.
The only difference between us is that we are voluntary.
We open our cameras and upload our lives online, hoping to be understood. But this deal always comes at a price.
What we give away is privacy, anxiety, and time. Every like, comment, and exposure is like exchanging a little bit of "presence".
Can we still be authentic when we willingly become the content?The more we are seen, the less certain we are of who we are.
This is the reality of the culture of being watched.
Digital Slow Food: Bringing Social Media Back to Its Real Rhythm
I started to wonder if it was possible to slow down and reclaim the power of choice.
This is the concept I'm promoting—Digital Slow Food.
It is a practice of "slow community",It reminds us that in this age where everything moves too fast, we should rediscover the most authentic connections between people that existed before mobile phones.
If you want to try this, start with these exercises:
- Limit your scrolling time to "read 5 articles and interact with 1 article" every day
- Write a slow letter to someone you really want to talk to
These small actions will gradually pull us out of the role of spectators.
When the community is no longer social, we find social ourselves
I often think of the last scene of "The Truman Show" when Truman walked out of the show. There was no applause, only silence.
We don’t need to withdraw from the community, but we can learn to put a chair at the door so that those who want to come in can come in and those who want to talk can talk.
When the community is no longer social, we take it back into our own hands.
Maybe we can see each other again.
