SOCIAL MEDIA

Why Everyday Experts Need Compassion, Too

On social media, everyone’s an expert

I confess I began this article in anger. I thought to myself, “If I have to see one more listicle on my newsfeed where some 22-year-old blogger recommends the seven secrets to a happy life (which always includes meditation, gratitude, the usual), I’m going to throw up.” The irony is not lost on me that my feed is populated based on my reading history. I’m the one who opens these articles. I took a deep breath and reflected, “What makes me click on these articles lately, and what prompts 22-year-olds with little life experience to write them?”

Social Media gives rise to the Everyday Expert

With coronavirus-related lockdowns, internet and social media usage has surged in 2020. Data from GlobalWebIndex indicates that every day during the pandemic more than 1 million people started using social media for the first time. This translates to 11 new users joining social media every second. Other reports indicate that global internet traffic has increased by as much as 30% and we’re spending considerably more time on the internet compared to six months ago.

In these uncertain times, we’ve taken to the internet for a variety of reasons. Boredom. Loneliness. Commiseration. Personally, I’ve noticed the majority of popular articles on my social media feeds tend to fall into the following categories: 1.) Panic-driven coronavirus stories ripe for doom-scrolling 2.) Disposable listicles and other easily consumable articles 3.) Divisive political commentary 4.) Genuinely thoughtful and informative articles. You can guess the proportions of each type.

In a world where algorithms select our content and solidify our interests and reading preferences, we seem to be consuming and producing the same types of stories in a self-reinforcing cycle. The cycle drives us into like-minded online communities based on political affiliation, geography, age, social status, etc. This can be dangerous as a recent Pew Research study found that Americans who rely on social media for their news are less engaged and less knowledgable about politics. Social media news users were more likely to be exposed to unproven claims, including the “Plandemic” conspiracy. This effect was particularly pronounced for adults under 30. It begs the question about the reliability of content on social media.

Although some of the content is produced by trained journalists and reputable media outlets, much of it is also produced by bloggers, social media mavens, and social media neophytes like myself. Anyone with internet access can start a blog, post an article, or tweet. Cultural critics like Andrew Keen decry this democratization of content creation and the rise of participatory technology. As he points out, many bloggers, including myself, are not backed a team of editors, researchers, and fact-checkers afforded to journalists in mainstream publications like The Atlantic, for example. He worries that when everyone’s an expert, no one is an expert. For those of us non-journalists and everyday people, what gives us the right to add our perspective to the conversation? And what compels us to share our words anyway?

The makings of an Everyday Expert

I am an everyday expert. I call myself a writer and although I have a couple of degrees and some work experience to my name, I have no formal expertise. I do not have the hardwon skills of a journalist or specific experience in any one area.

I am one of the 1 million users per day that joined social media during the coronavirus pandemic. Prior to the pandemic, I only had a Facebook account and only posted to it a few times a year. Facing the reality of social distancing with no end in sight, I joined Twitter, Instagram, Medium, and started a blog in June 2020.

I was and am overwhelmed and exhausted by living in a constant state of uncertainty. I believed by joining these platforms I could experience a sense of connectedness that I was missing in my personal life. I don’t have a hidden agenda and don’t intend to populate the blogosphere with hateful or misinformed rhetoric. I suspect a lot of us who joined social media during the pandemic feel the same way.

Maybe the 22-year-old life expert and I are overcompensating. In America where we’re in the middle of a pandemic with no end in sight and have an anxiety-ridden 2020 Election on the horizon, none of us knows for sure what the future will look like. At least I can provide information on the five best ways to show your partner you care. If none us knows what’s going on, at least we can share what we do think we know.

Maybe we’re depressed and looking for the validation and dopamine hits provided by social media. Maybe we don’t know if we can get out of bed in the morning to greet the monotony of another Groundhog Day, but are momentarily consoled by the fact that at least twenty people liked our posts.

Maybe we’re doubtful about our futures. We’ve lost our jobs or our careers are floundering and we cling to the hope of going viral and rising out of obscurity and mediocrity.

Maybe we’re struggling with our sense of identity and want to be seen.

Maybe we’re hoping to make some money in an economy that has rejected us or we’re from a country where making $200 on Medium is life-changing.

Maybe we believe we are artists and creators and are genuinely drawn to sharing our work with the world.

Maybe writing and sharing is healing for us and reminds us that we’re not alone.

Maybe we believe our words can make a difference.

Everyday Experts gone wrong

Amidst a sea of voices clamoring for attention, some of us compromise our integrity in order to be recognized. Some of us will do anything to gain another follower or receive another like.

Some of us purposely post clickbait.

Some of us produce controversial, mean-spirited content intended only to provoke ire.

Some of us overshare and make shocking personal revelations that are not in our best interests to reveal publicly. Nevertheless, we publish them hoping that people will read them out of warped curiosity.

Some of us are unwittingly biased and put out misinformation unintentionally.

Some of us are in tune with the zeitgeist and offer content that preys on the fears and insecurities of the current time.

Some of us contribute bland, meaningless articles knowing full well that people will read them and forget them moments later.

Some of us think only in terms of memeable or Tweetable content rather than the benefit to the reader.

Some of us will say that it’s not our fault — we are creating content based on people’s desires.

Our role as consumers

As social media consumers, are we to be blamed? We’re stressed. We want to escape. We want to be distracted. We want to be reassured. We want answers.

Perhaps we gravitate toward reading consumable articles that leave us with actionable takeaways because they provide us with a sense of clarity and hope. All I need to do is incorporate this full-proof, 10-minute morning routine into my day and it will change my life! It may be false hope, but it’s hope nonetheless. Perhaps we’re angry about politics and want to read something that gives voice to that anger. Perhaps reading about someone else’s traumatic childhood makes us feel better about our own.

On one hand, we are all flawed, human, and our interest in these topics is understandable. There are times when everything that’s happening to the world feels like it’s happening to us. For some of us, right now is one of those times. Indulging our less-evolved instincts from time to time may be what helps get some of us through the day.

On the other hand, it is our responsibility to be better social media consumers. There will always be the everyday experts gone wrong who clutter our feeds with their terrible content. If we want better content, we need to seek out better content. We have the power of our attention and we can choose what and who we give it to.

Compassion for the Everyday Expert

Given the pitfalls of everyday experts, should we still be allowed a voice? My answer is yes. I believe there is honesty and beauty and humor and insight to be found in the voices of everyday people. We are all experts in our own lives. Through social media, I have read about the challenges of working as a Black sommelier, reflections of an Indian American in the Midwest, and memories of a clove-smoking teen in the ‘90s. Our stories and theirs have a certain power as they are not mediated through another writer, but are told firsthand.

There are those everyday experts like myself who strive to learn about the world and share what we’ve learned. We offer facts and opinions. It’s dangerous territory. We risk getting things wrong. For me, I put my faith in myself and in the wisdom of the community. I’ll do my best and I know you’ll let me know what I’ve missed. As everyday experts, we can engage in a conversation with the community, which is oftentimes more meaningful than the original post. Each post doesn’t have to be a hill to die on.

In the future, I’ll grant myself and other everyday experts more compassion. When I stumble across a post from another 20-something telling me how to fulfill my dreams in five easy steps, I’ll empathize. Rather than assuming she’s an out-of-touch, narcissistic Gen Zer who actually believes she’s cracked the code to dream fulfillment, I’ll imagine something else. Maybe she’s unemployed or lost or depressed and sharing her thoughts about dream fulfillment helps her get through another day. Maybe she wants to be a writer and earnestly believes in her article. Maybe I’ll find a bit of wisdom in her words.

For those of you who still believe we everyday experts don’t deserve a platform, that’s okay. We all have the power to scroll on.

For those of you who do give us a chance, thanks for reading.