Social Media and Influencer Activism: Performativity in an Increasingly Visual Culture
The wave of support for the #BlackLivesMatter movement in the summer of 2020, which followed the reprehensible murder of George Floyd by Minneapolis police officers, was inherently tied to the increasing reliance that many of us inevitably felt towards our online presences, especially given that we were only a couple months deep into the pandemic.
Grief and calls for justice erupted across all platforms, while ordinary users and celebrities alike took immediately to an unspoken memo: that one would be absolved of their complicity in racism as long as they shared a relevantly hash-tagged image (like the notorious Black Square), infographic or slideshow. What was once an apocalyptic den of masked selfies and social distancing reminders transformed into a charge of pastel-colored, aestheticized bite-sizes of news and (at many times unqualified) opinions or pieces of information.
Instead of writing off all forms of political engagement on social media though, we should accord platforms like Twitter, Instagram, TikTok and Facebook some merit for being effective means to spread awareness of crucial political moments to users across the globe, within the span of seconds, too. But with such immediacy comes the danger of rapidly spreading misinformation, of performative virtue signaling and of altogether empty efforts at contributing to social change.
One example of this fickle activism was the trend of turning the Black Lives Matter movement into a tagging challenge on Instagram whereby users would tag their mutual followers using the ‘stories’ feature to encourage shows of support for the cause by reposting. Another example is the way people across all platforms would caption their posts with the slogan ‘anyway, arrest the cops that killed Breonna Taylor’, even if the content of their posts was entirely unrelated to Breonna Taylor’s case or the broader issue of police brutality.
While these resorts on one hand signaled people’s indictments of the police brutality crisis – an important show of solidarity at many times – these efforts were only off-handed at best as they trivialised the grave issue into meme-able and challenge-worthy forms of online activity that would boost the engagement and popularity of the poster, particularly if this person was an influencer who had a large and impressionable following. Methods like these were therefore pretty blind-sighted and self-aggrandizing ways that people tried to involve themselves in the discourse for the sake of recognition.
It’s pretty safe to say that those of us with the privilege not to experience the effects of social injustice especially fall prey to the post-and-forget impulse. Racial hate crimes, poverty, and homelessness or the multitude of other forms of government ineptitude – recall the warehouse explosion in Lebanon or see the UK government’s recent dissemination of ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ orders to Covid patients with learning disabilities: these are all news items that are commonplace to see broadcasted across social sites. But one thing determines the reach of these posts online and our likelihoods to engage, coming before even the content these posts are reporting: the graphics with which they are represented.
The Infographic Complex
Any post in which it is clear that there was a greater focus placed on aesthetics instead of the information being shared is a great example of how marketability, profitability and selectivity are all intertwined with the boom in social media activism. Surprisingly, the “slacktivism: already described is not limited to the internet, and in fact predates it; writer Scott Gilmore for Maclean, cites the “lazy college student” of the nineties who would “arrive at campus and happily discover it was ‘Blue Jean Day’ to promote gay rights. Nevermind that our noble slacker only ever wore blue jeans.” He goes on to say that “social media is merely the enabler. The real root of the slacktivist problem is biological. Our brain has evolved to reward us for perceived altruism.”
Although it’s undeniable that humans possess this intrinsic, egotistic tendency, the emphasis should be, as always, on capitalism. Cierra Bettens, writer for Lithium Magazine, helpfully points out that ‘as with any post on Instagram, social justice infographics are intertwined with the algorithm game that those who wish to gain a platform must play.’ In an article for Vox, a conversation with the runner of highly successful Instagram account @soyouwanttotalkabout revealed a similar outreach strategy: “when Jess launched [the account] in February, she gravitated towards bolder colors … for her posts’ backgrounds, but eventually settled on a more subdued palette of creamy pinks, yellows and blues. Her overall strategy and content packaging are similar to brands that speak to corporate-minded, girl-boss feminists.” Jess adds herself: “I’m trying to appeal to the apolitical people, the ones who’d rather stay out of it and enjoy, like, mimosa pictures … I’m also trying to reach women my age, millennials who aren’t participating in the conversation because they don’t know where to start.”
While efforts such as these often have good intentions behind them, and although these convenient bite-sizes do often help people discover information they might not have otherwise without social media, they encourage the post-and-forget culture that so greatly hinders actual change because those who are privileged can get away with the mere appearance of creating change, while those who are not so lucky are stuck with the same realities.
Capitalism is so intrinsically linked to this enigma because of the way most young social media users, especially, are used to a digital and commercial culture that has reduced our attention spans such that anything that isn’t conveniently packaged requires too much energy. Writer Nicole Aschoff points out ‘a dominant way of thinking in neoliberal capitalism: societal issues are collapsed into personal troubles that can be resolved through a series of micro-choices. Micro-solutions are certainly what tech companies are emphasizing today [except] they don’t actually want you to put your phone down. Their business model depends on your spending ever more time posting, liking searching, messaging, tweeting, self-monitoring.’
This highlights another slacktivist phenomenon of “clicktivism” whereby advertising principles such as A/B testing (or split testing, where two variants of the same webpage are shown to visitors and compared to see which drives more conversions) are applied to optimize engagement and reach. As Aschoff notes, it’s important not to reduce the faults of ordinary people – real faults nonetheless that have material effects – to our own narcissism or weakness; “as more and more people become suspicious of the technology, institutions, and relationships embodied in their phones, they are taking a closer look at the companies that control them. Our fears express a growing awareness of our vulnerability vis-à-vis the tech giants – a growing sense that life itself is somehow being shaped around the needs of profit-making.”
All of this goes without saying that I have learnt a great ordeal through social media activism, starting even with the old Tumblr days where my thirteen-year-old self first discovered the term ‘misogyny’ through a re-blogged pastel illustration of a shark. But while we should by no means remove ourselves from political engagement online, we should re-evaluate our relationships with both social media activism and real, material activism that contributes towards effecting change (petitioning, donating, rallying and simply calling-out). And we do this by drawing the line where the former begins to overweigh the latter in our own lives.
Some of the criteria I personally go through in order to check myself before potentially falling into the traps of slacktivism are:
Checking the reliability of the source; a well-reputed and non-biased news site, journal, or organization are all great sources. Some public figures are also incredibly well-informed and in fact run their platforms on their knowledge-base in the issues spoken about. Particular examples are musician @noname, and actor @mattmcgorry on Instagram.
Check your own intentions with posting and be honest with yourself; will your action be a one-time attempt to self-absolve or will your concern for the issue expand into more nuanced and detailed explorations in your future activist efforts?
Beyond posting, do your own research into the information you wish to share with others.
Consider what your following needs to hear, even if it might be uncomfortable. An empty-handed preach to the choir is much less effective than being bold enough to share a piece of information or opinion that might sincerely challenge the worldviews of your followers.
For more resources on effective social media activism, also see Hannah Berman’s useful list on how to spot a worthwhile infographic.
Sources:
Should We Trust Instagram Infographics?, Hannah Berman, Medium, July 28 2020
Smartphones Aren’t the Problem - Capitalism is, Nicole Aschoff, Jacobin, November 3 2020.
Unpacking the Instagram Infographic Industrial Complex, Cierra Bettens, Lithium, September
14, 2020.
The problem with #slacktivism, Scott Gilmore, Macleans, September 11 2014.
How Social Justice Slideshows Took Over Instagram, Terry Nguyen, Vox, August 12 2020.