How Social Networks Make Us Dumber
For most of us, when a debate is happening, we instinctively want to know if someone is "with us" or "against us."
We debate all the time, don’t we? These days, platforms are everywhere, and we can engage in discussions with anyone, anywhere, about anything. But are we aware of how these exchanges might actually be making us dumber? Let’s break down how social media does just that with a simple example.
Let’s say there's a topic under debate. Disagreement is natural; it’s a part of life. In the past, people used "consultation" to resolve these disagreements. Consultation involved people coming together to find common ground or build a solution collaboratively. It’s a process of constructive dialogue where both sides work towards an understanding. Stories from the past suggest that people were better at this kind of dialogue—and many of us wish it were true! But today, the norm seems to be less about consultation and more about confrontation.
Debate, by nature, is about winning. It’s about proving one’s point. When we debate, we are defending our position, and “defending” implies a battle stance, like defending a fortress. This can be an effective way of discussing things, but without an openness to learn from the other side, there’s no real growth. When we take sides, we’re in defense mode; we’re not learning from anyone on the other side. And that’s just the start of the problem.
When discussion happens online, another layer of complications emerges. We’re not just debating; we’re doing so in a space where anyone, anywhere, at any time, can jump into the conversation. And when too many voices enter, diversity turns into noise—a cacophony. Here’s where things start to go downhill.
Among the voices, some people know the topic well, some have interest but lack deep knowledge, and others don’t understand at all, or worse, completely misunderstand the subject. The intellectual depth varies dramatically, ranging from the well-read and thoughtful to those who have little genuine understanding. Then, we have the angry, the bitter, the narcissistic, the cynical, the trolls, the anarchists, and the simple attention-seekers. You name it, they’re there.
While all these types exist in society, the difference in an open forum is that every type joins the discussion, blending into the background noise. At first glance, this might seem wonderful—a true expression of plurality. But here’s the problem: our minds aren’t built to handle so much variety at once. We can’t process all these differences or adjust to the sheer number of viewpoints. So we simplify.
For most of us, the easiest way to categorize a debate is to ask: "Are they with us or against us?" No matter the crowd size, a few statements, some slogans, or an image are all it takes to categorize people into one of two groups. This categorization is overly simplistic, but our minds, which handle only a few elements at a time, find it efficient. Suddenly, we’re in a "them" vs. "us" situation, ready to defend “our side” against “the others.”
The people we label as “ours” can say ridiculous, offensive, or outright false things, but because they’re “ours,” we overlook their flaws. On the other side, people we’ve categorized as "theirs" are all grouped into a single, negative stereotype. While individuals from "their" side might occasionally make good points, we dismiss them simply because they’re part of “the other side.” This mindless sorting process allows us to clash endlessly without moving forward, as we reinforce stereotypes and keep our opinions unchallenged.
All the while, those who seek to profit off us are thrilled. After all, why do these "free" social media platforms exist? So we can argue in peace? Partly, yes. But there’s another purpose. The more we’re wrapped up in arguments, the more likely we are to stay in our echo chambers, to click, buy, and contribute to the profit machine.
Today, I’m writing in an era where such mind-numbing simplicity has become “the rule” of online communication. We judge even the ugliest statements based not on "what is said," but on "who said it." If we don’t know the speaker’s position or affiliation, their words hold no meaning to us.
For smart people, these platforms are best left as places for experimentation, satire, or casual observation. Using social media to genuinely understand people or to gain "information" is increasingly a lost cause. Trying to take the pulse of society here would be less accurate than checking the pulse of a corpse.