Trust and Culture War
The ongoing and widely discussed culture war in the United States, often portrayed as originating from one or another side of the political spectrum, is frequently said to be fueled by social media. At first glance, it appears that social media exerts a strong influence on how divisive the public debate has become. Examples include the use of humor and schadenfreude as reactions to the injury or death of public figures.
Surely, social media–based filter bubbles and online forums can amplify certain mindsets and debates. However, the underlying culture of division may not be caused solely by these platforms. It might instead be a reflection of deeper social tensions. A recent example can be seen in sporting events, where audiences chant disrespectful slogans or deliberately sabotage contestants, showing little respect for their craft or for themselves.
The argument often made is that social media is to blame for this apparent moral and cultural decline. Yet this, I believe, is a cop-out, a convenient scapegoat. Social media is dangerous not merely because of what it shows us, but because we no longer decide what we see. The algorithm decides. And the algorithm loves engagement, for it is designed to be greedy—grabbing our attention to drive advertising metrics and revenue for the platform.
However, this issue extends beyond Meta, X, or any other commercially driven platform. Social media encompasses open-source platforms, video-sharing sites, chat interfaces, and web forums. In essence, it creates microcultures, small circles of engagement revolving around shared contexts and perspectives.
As dark as the current debate seems, it remains open and, in most cases, accessible. What is most interesting, and troubling, is understanding the source of this deepening hostility. The answer is most likely multidimensional. One factor is the role of political groups, whose interests are often tied to maintaining or regaining power. These groups, in turn, can use social media to influence the masses, both directly and in very subtle ways. The Cambridge Analytica scandal is only one of many examples of how social media can be weaponised for political gain and division.
Commercial interests are certainly another important factor. To quote a public relations classic: “Bad publicity is good publicity.” Therefore, anything goes as long as the topic, person, opinion, candidate, or product being promoted stays in the public discussion, regardless of whether the attention is positive or negative. And we know that “bad” is often more interesting and exciting, which gives it a higher tendency to go viral. In a way, making people angry is better for engagement and in turn increases publicity.
There is hope however, the overarching question relates to trust. Whom can we trust in this vast ocean of information and debate? The trust crisis is already here, and it will only deepen as AI begins to drive public discourse, creating real-time, multimodal videos, clips, and debate snippets. We may soon reach a point where we cannot trust anything that appears on our screens, not even the voice of a family member.
And perhaps, paradoxically, that might be a good thing. It might push us back toward real human connection, to talk to people in person, to meet in town halls, to listen to storytellers by the fire. Real interactions may ultimately save us, precisely because they are what we can trust, without a middleman, an algorithm, or a greedy maximiser of engagement standing invisible and uncontrolled in between.