If you were to read Substack or Twitter regularly, especially what I would term the “dissident” space, you would likely come to the conclusion that the world is on the brink of utter destruction. You would think that Civil War is right around the corner, that World War III is almost here, and that we are living in the most tumultuous and dangerous time ever.
Now, I doubt anybody on earth is under the impression that everything is just totally fine. There are ongoing conflicts, some of which have no end in sight. Ideological rhetoric is increasingly intolerant and angry. Democrats believe Trump is the secong coming of the man with the mustache, and Republicans are basically convinced that a second Civil War is imminent. Many people are struggling financially, and the culture is in a very poor state. I hardly need to explain all this, and I am not going to tell you things are all bright and happy. But I am going to tell you to step away from the screen for a moment, take a breath, and detach yourself from the rhetoric you’re exposed to every single day (for some, every waking hour).
I have not been on X.com for many months now. I scrubbed my account and deleted it. I have not remade an account. I also do not spend much time reading Substack; I usually read a few publications from people I like, read some notes for a minute, and then I read the comments to my own content.
This has led to far less interaction with the culture war and with political rhetoric. In the course of my detachment, I have observed that people who continue to be heavily immersed in the “discourse” seem fearful and often downright manic.
There is a spectre haunting the West, the spectre of the Algorithm. The algorithm picks up that you, dear reader, love interacting with political content, especially with two particular types of content online: the content published by those you most agree with, and the content of those you most disagree with. You like, you comment, you repost, you click. Your feed is a constant stream of those you love and those you hate, and nothing in between. The algorithm doesn’t care what your beliefs are, it just cares that you interact, and you interact with the stuff you hate and fear just as much as you interact with the stuff you support and feel comforted by. And you, being a politically minded person, naturally tend towards political content and culture war topics. It is no different from how a sports fan is entirely immersed in the internet sphere of their team and the opposing teams. All they see, all they comment on, all they like, and all they care about is sports related content, especially the content that they disagree with or that gets them going.
A moment of clearheaded thinking would allow anyone to wake up to this reality, but that usually means a moment away from the screen and a moment where one is not in a state of fear, anger, or resentment. Such moments are hard to come by when we are quite literally addicted to our screens in a very real, biochemical way. We are under the algorithms’ neurotic spell. Therefore, a mere hour away will not suffice. One must truly retreat.
I do not just want to sit around and boast about how I was able to gain this moment of clarity above and beyond others. But I seriously believe that my deletion of X was an important and entirely positive step that allowed me to disengage from the currents which dominate the dissident space to a greater extent.
When you exit the algorithm and observe the real world more than you do the algorithmic bubble, you realize something: the world has been going on all around you without you even noticing. While your mind has been fixated on the incendiary incident 1,000 miles away, normal everyday life continues. People are still eating out, they’re still going shopping, they’re still sending their kids to school, they’re still going out to the bar with their friends, they’re still going to church, they’re still watching movies, and they’re still going to work. Oh, but that’s all normie stuff, what do they know? Perhaps not a whole lot. But they’re probably better off for it.
I am not saying that there isn’t insanity all around us. Even offline it is difficult to ignore. But at the same time, the situation is not quite as dire as it may seem, especially if one has even a shred of a historical mind. I mean, does anybody remember that U.S. Presidents were actually assassinated in the past and that there have been many more attempts? Political assassinations are as old as politics, so it is foolish to pretend as if the attempts on Trump are special. As far as belief in political violence goes, if polls are to be believed at all, then it is Republicans and not Democrats who are most supportive of potential violence (you wouldn’t know that reading dissident content). U.S. involvement in the Ukraine War, compared to its involvement in conflicts over the last 30 years, is tame and less costly. That is just a fact. We’ve spent around $70 Billion to support Ukraine militarily. For context, we spent $1.5 Trillion dollars waging war in Afghanistan alone. I am not saying you should support either, but let’s not pretend as if the Ukraine War is draining us when we threw Trillions of dollars at the desert for nothing.
If the internet was to be believed, then you’d think that people are chomping at the bit to kill each other on the streets, that the nuclear bombs will drop any moment, and that America is just on the brink of collapse. But that just isn’t what we observe in reality.
In reality, people are getting on as usual. The hurricane is a good example. Many millions of people lost power, homes, property, and money. Infrastucture got wrecked. Nevertheless, in my area, people immediately began helping one another find out information and keep safe. They talked to one another as humans, and collectively endured a disaster. There was no violence. There was no breakdown of society. If anything, it was a catalyst for socialization. Everyone was talking to one another about the storm and how it affected them. One of the local bars invited people to come and charge their devices and exchange stories. In this moment, even if just for a brief time, the ideological barriers disappeared and the common human experience brought some unity to the air. Will it last? Probably not. But I think it goes to show that as bad as things may be, not everyone is an evil ideological partisan waiting to seize on the opportunity to instigate all out war with their fellow citizens.
Am I being too optimistic? Perhaps. Nonetheless, over the past several months, I have come to believe that the apocalyptic prophecies being peddled online are just complete nonsense. We are indeed undergoing world-historical shifts in our culture and politics, but the fact of the matter is the America is not about to collapse, that World War III is not likely, and that you are probably not going to witness a civil war.
If you disagree with me, then I would urge you to do just one thing if you haven’t already: take like a month or two away from Twitter, away from Substack, and away from reading the news. If, after that time, you still feel as if we are on the verge of total destruction, then we will simply have to disagree. However, I suspect you will observe in yourself a newfound sense of calm. You won’t lose your senses; on the contrary, they will become more refined. You will be able to discern what is mere algorithmic fearmongering—content that is driven by your ideological angst—and what is genuinely worth concern.
You will also observe that you are more able to think even if you are less prone to speak. The algorithm thrives off of a base, reactionary disposition; the best possible user is one who reads rapidly, comments quickly, and frantically goes from one thing to another. If you observe the “discourse” for any period of time, you will notice how short people’s attention span is and how quickly they are willing to make snap judgements, even without knowing the full story or having taken the time to think about what they are seeing and about what they really believe. The algorithm wants and needs your kneejerk response. You must do the opposite.
I suspect that behind our country’s heightened political climate is, more than anything, the algorithm. Moreover, for that small minority that is hyper-immersed in political and ideological rhetoric online, everything appears to be in a worse state than it really is, and their entire existence is consumed by this outlook.
The best possible course of action for you and for society as a whole is to revolt against the algorithm. If more people began to abandon their feeds and spend more time interacting with the world around them rather than the world the algorithm has fashioned for them, I suspect we would observe a radical change in the cultural climate. Will this actually occur? Probably not. Addiction is hard to beat. But that’s no reason not to try yourself.
Congrats on breaking away from Twitter/X. I post links to Substack there (which are strongly de-boosted by Musk as he views Substack as competition, so it's a waste of my time), but basically nothing else. As you argue Twitter feeds on enticing reaction; ultimately it fosters an addiction to micro-dopamine hits. That's why I like Substack. The problems you state don't go away, but it fundamentally requires an element of patience and engagement for long-form reading that isn't needed for short-form content.
Serendipitous for this to come today, I just deleted my Twitter two days ago for the exact same reason you did. You put it so well when you said you can think clearer but be less prone to speak. It really scrambles your brain. Just think about what someone’s life must be like if you see them tweet 20-30 times a day, always up on the latest topic, always watching the enemy, ready to say something clever to “own” them.