If you, like me, grew up in a small town you know that this means that dirty laundry is out for all to see. Affairs and other scandals become public fodder. Not necessarily because they happen with more frequency than in bigger cities, but because the connectedness of people in small towns makes it easy for stories to spread.
Social media is a lot like this small-town effect, where you get the rapid spreading of information. The recently concluded 2024 Summer Olympic Games in Paris is a great example of this and also demonstrates how social media was built for fighting. The games themselves certainly leaned into the creation of their own controversy. Think of the opening ceremony, the official logo that looked like Mary J Blige, or the filth in the Seine River that even hospitalised swimming participants. But another interesting factor of this year’s games was the extent to which armchair critics became public commentators, thanks to social media. This phenomenon demonstrated how much the internet is built for fighting.
There’s no shortage of research about the psychology of arguing online. For example, it is well known that a person’s voice conveys more than just their words. When we hear a person explain their beliefs, that person will seem more human and more competent to us than if we were to read their words. This is why it is easier to dehumanise someone you are fighting with online.
What we also need to consider is that the design of social media is made for fighting. Research has found a few factors in the online war of words. One is that people can find it nearly impossible to avoid arguments on certain platforms such as Facebook and WhatsApp. Another is that disagreements become sparring matches with a captive audience, rather than two or more people trying to express their views and find common ground. And let us not forget that the way Facebook structures commenting prevents meaningful engagement because many comments are automatically hidden and cut shorter.
Returning to the Olympics as our example here, while the Olympics have always drawn attention, nowadays views can go viral, whether they are based in fact or not.
Take for example how French pole vaulter Anthony Ammirati received maybe more attention than he wanted when after a video went viral suggesting a “bulge” in his shorts cost him a medal. In Ammirati’s case, a closer view of the video shows that his knee hit the bar. Moreover, while he also failed in all three attempts, nine other men didn’t.
According to Paul Miser, executive vice president and group director at marketing firm The How Agency, “the speed, amplification, broader reach, and ability to build and engage in real-time conversations around Olympic moments have shifted the dynamic of how the games are covered and consumed. Social media empowers users to decide what they find interesting, endearing, and newsworthy.”
What adds frustration to this mix is that often when the internet gets it wrong and something goes viral before the truth has been established, it takes the conversation away from the actual problem and makes it about something else. What comes to my mind here is how, when the world jumped in to discuss Algerian boxer Imane Khelif who was at the centre of a controversy over gender for her high testosterone, we Namibians stood in disbelief with the knowledge of what our runners Christine Mboma and Beatrice Masilingi have been through to be allowed to compete due to their testosterone levels.
If you recall, last year new regulations by World Athletics meant they had to lower their higher-than-usual testosterone levels to compete in events. This hormone therapy led to quick fatigue, impacting their performance, and dreams of competing at this year’s Olympics were dashed.
So if social media has the power to make unlikely stars, like the newfound fame Turkish shooter Yusuf Dikec received, wouldn’t it be wonderful if this force was used for good, or to shine a light on double standards and inequalities worldwide? Wouldn’t that be nice?
Kirsty Watermeyer
