The Problem Isn't With Twitter or Its Many Imitations. The Problem is You.

(Source: The Financial Express)

Have you created another profile for the newest social media platform? No? What are you waiting for? Threads is being hailed as a “Twitter Killer.” This is the platform that will finally send Elon Musk packing.

More importanlty, it will supposedly bring you the closest to experiencing what Twitter was like at its best.

How many profiles do you now have? Have any of them proved to be fully satisfying?

But Threads is different, you say.

Ian Bogost and Charlie Warzel have written what I think is one of the best obituaries for these micro-blogging platforms that beautifully captures where we now find ourselves.

By dinnertime, those of us with unhealthy relationships to Twitter had already begun doing just that: following and posting, posting and hearting and “rethreading,” or whatever it’s called when you retweet on Threads. One of the authors of this piece, we won’t reveal who, even enabled notifications to feel the warm buzz of approval as our comrades rushed into the newest and least cool club on the internet: a Twitter clone run by Facebook.

Listen, it felt good. Just like it felt good when we went through this same process 10 months ago on Mastodon and two months ago on Bluesky. It’s shameful to admit, or at least the two of us are ashamed to admit it. Maybe we won’t have to admit it if we just keep inventing new apps to do the same thing. The deterioration of Twitter, a real-time, global online news network, feels like a real loss, so the promise of its possible recovery inspires, as saccharine as that sentiment may be—even if that recovery comes from Meta.

We all know that feeling of self-loathing after two hours of doom scrolling with absolutely nothing to show for it. That feeling is made even worse when you’ve signed up for another platform without even realizing you are doing it.

Stop looking for your old Twitter community. It no longer exists and can never be replicated, not because it is technically impossible, but because Twitter was the product of a certain time and social media culture. It was a response to specific conditions in the social media ecosystem, conditions that have changed drastically in the years since.

No one is looking for you.

This is easy to say when the rush of new followers and the excitement of what may happen with those first few posts beckons. But you know the truth. The excitement doesn’t last and you end up becoming the worst version of yourself.

Still, there’s a weird cognitive dissonance at play these first few hours on a new posting app, here in the twilight of the social-media era. The inveterate posters—the creators who rely on having a renewable resource of fire hoses in which to blast out content, and the ones who are proud of their internet-brain damage—are firing off missives with the giddiness of two kids who just discovered that their walkie-talkies work across the neighborhood. These individuals are simply excited because beginnings are exciting, but there’s also something delusional about it all. The cascade of new followers, the collective rush of establishing new communication norms on the fly with friends and total strangers—all of that is fleeting. And the true sickos know what happens next: the trolls, the spam, the ads, the Conversations About Politics. Even if those things never materialize, the nagging feeling is still there. It’s not exactly like rebuilding your home on the coastline after it was destroyed by a hurricane, but the vibe is similar: rebirth and hope, but also regret and dread. If only it had all just fallen into the sea.

Instead of setting up another profile, take a month or two off from social media altogether. Think of it as a summer vacation. Ask yourself what it is you are hoping to accomplish online and what the best type of platform is for you.

You are bound to be disappointed by the latest Twitter imitation, not because it is flawed in some way. No, it’s time to recognize that the problem is you.