Why I’m ‘Thumb’s Down’ on the ‘Thumb’s Up’ Emoji

Summary

The author expresses dissatisfaction with the impersonal nature of "thumb's up" and "love" emojis as responses to personal efforts, such as cooking a meal or writing an article, emphasizing the lack of genuine feedback and engagement they represent.

Abstract

The article "Why I’m ‘Thumb’s Down’ on the ‘Thumb’s Up’ Emoji" conveys the author's frustration with the superficiality of digital interactions, particularly the use of emojis as a substitute for meaningful feedback. The author draws a parallel between the effort involved in preparing a meal and the creative process of writing, highlighting the investment of time and care in both activities. The author argues that reducing appreciation for such efforts to a simple "thumb's up" emoji is a disservice to the creator, as it lacks the depth and thoughtfulness that a well-considered comment or review would provide. The piece underscores the importance of taking the time to engage more personally with the content people consume and the experiences they share.

Opinions

The author believes that a "thumb's up" emoji is an inadequate response to someone's significant efforts, such as preparing a meal or writing an article.
There is a perceived loss of genuine communication and feedback due to the over-reliance on quick, effortless digital gestures.
The author values thoughtful engagement, such as comments or reviews, over the simplicity of a "love" emoji or a few claps.
The article suggests that the current state of digital interaction encourages a culture of haste, where consumers are quick to move on to the next thing without properly digesting or appreciating the content.
The author feels that the depth of their writing, which involves a lengthy creative process, is not acknowledged by the brief and cursorily nature of emoji responses.
The piece reflects a sense of disappointment or failure on the part of the author, as the intended light-heartedness of the writing turned more critical due to the subject matter.

And I hate the ‘love’ emoji too

Imagine this scenario.

You’ve cooked me a fabulous meal. Hours of shopping and prep time have gone into it. My favorite foods, prepared just so, served with a flourish. The table has been laid with care. Dessert was to die for. AND, you cleaned up. I just sat and enjoyed, not lifting a finger. Pure consumer, that’s me.

“So what did you think?” you venture after the feast is complete.

And this, this horrible little no-effort muscle twitch to the left, is what I give you.

No comment, no feedback, no review of the many fine qualities of the recently downed chow.

Just a gesture.

My heartfelt response for your labors consists of a nanosecond’s click on a preset icon. No creation, no reflection, no time, no investment of energy, just “click” and that warm and fuzzy symbol of gratitude finds its way from my laptop or iPhone to your computer. The glow from me to you, complete!

Well, when many of us write, even a short piece, it goes something like this:

Prep time is invested dreaming up an idea. Often, the idea sits in our draft queue for a while, simmering, sauteing, perhaps being stirred.

The presentation, the audience and the value of it gets considered.

If deemed worthy for consumption, real cooking begins.

Flourishes, garnishes and accoutrements of various types get added in, like rewriting, editing, images, formatting.

Finally, just prior to plating and presentation, a last look at the various dishes that make up the meal.

Then and only then, is our carefully planned feast ready to serve.

Much like cooking someone’s favorite meal, this process can take hours or even days. All for something that may get consumed in five to seven minutes even if a reader lingers over it. Sometimes, the “meal” as written gets a hasty once over, is viewed, and is then discarded, not counted as read or consumed.

“If,” and it’s a big “if” some days, a “thumb’s up” is given in the form of a clap or two, maybe five, a miserly percentage of the total appreciation allowance of 50. No comments, no review. Just a gesture, gone like a canape, in one bite.

We’ve been programmed, trained to twitch/gesture and move on. What’s next? What’s next? What’s next? Thumbs up, thumbs down, love it, don’t love it, clap.

Done.

This little snack was intended to be all light and airy. Spongecake and froufrou frosting. Partway through the preparation though the lemon juice and black pepper spilled into my mixing bowl. Now I’ve served up a sour stingy stew.

Oh well … fail.

I give it a …

Humor-less

Why I’m ‘Thumb’s Down’ on the ‘Thumb’s Up’ Emoji

And I hate the ‘love’ emoji too