Despite the New Year’s resolutions I set at the beginning of 2024, I still haven’t managed to overcome my social media addiction. Platforms like TikTok and Instagram Reels seem tailor-made to hijack my attention, their short-form content lapping at my overstimulated neurons like a swarm of hungry puppies. As I scroll, my cortex processes little substance, except for one perilous detour: the comments section. Here, an unsettling phenomenon unfolds. Videos featuring individuals with visible disabilities, unconventional appearances, or countercultural ideologies often draw a flood of comments ranging from outright cruelty to thinly veiled mockery disguised as compliments. Phrases like “didn’t ask,” “going to lie, you look great!” (often sarcastically), or “you ATE for sure” (directed at larger-bodied individuals) proliferate. Particularly jarring are responses like “don’t pmo (piss me off),” a dismissive reaction to usually personal content, or “womp womp,” a slang term seemingly reserved for trivializing someone else’s trauma or discomfort, even in serious contexts such as violence or mental health struggles.
Does this culture of superficial engagement with strangers’ emotions affect our real-life capacity for empathy and compassion? Research suggests it does. Silard (2022) argues that the fleeting nature of social media content—whether emotional, humorous, or educational—dulls emotional responses as users endlessly scroll through an overwhelming mix of stimuli. This is compounded by phenomena like “compassion fatigue,” in which the constant exposure to distressing news and personal tragedies on social media leads to desensitization and emotional exhaustion (Ducharme, 2023). Far from a conscious choice, this is a psychological coping mechanism that allows individuals to shield themselves from the relentless onslaught of negative information. Guan et al. (2019) propose that this erosion of empathy, most visible in the anonymity of online comment sections, may extend into real-life interactions. The absence of emotional cues in digital communication diminishes the depth of connection, and habitual reliance on these forms of engagement may impair our ability to respond compassionately during face-to-face interactions.
Oliver Sacks, in his 2015 essay The Machine Stops, reflected on how modern society’s dependence on technology mirrors the dystopian world envisioned in E.M. Forster’s 1909 story of the same name. Sacks described the digital age as “a neurological catastrophe on a gigantic scale,” warning that constant connectivity and social media’s relentless pace erode our capacity for deep thought and meaningful empathy. Like Forster’s subterranean society, where humanity lives isolated and reliant on impersonal machines, Sacks saw our overdependence on technology as a path to superficial relationships and diminished human connection. His concerns underscore the dangers of mistaking fleeting digital engagement for genuine interaction and highlight the importance of reclaiming authentic connections in an increasingly screen-dominated world (Sacks, 2015). While I don’t necessarily agree with everything Sacks had to say, I agree with his point about manufactured isolation and the consequences that overwhelming digitization can bring.
To an extent, the way we interact with the distress of others on social media mirrors a still-life painting depicting dead game (Figure 1). In such a painting, the contorted bodies of animals, soon to decompose, are presented as impressive trophies of the hunter’s skill. To the audience, these lifeless forms are admired for their aesthetic composition and symbolic value. Yet, from the perspective of the creature, this is a tableau of profound vulnerability and suffering, prompting a response entirely disconnected from the reality of its experience. Similarly, on social media, the vulnerability and trauma shared by individuals are often consumed as mere spectacle—curiosities to be observed, critiqued, or dismissed rather than occasions for genuine compassion or support. But it doesn’t stop at apathy; it continues towards a different, but intertwined concept – performativity.
Studies have highlighted the performative nature of social media, where users often feel compelled to respond to tragedies or sensitive content in ways deemed “appropriate,” driven more by the pursuit of social validation than by genuine empathy (Chou et al., 2021). In this context, even in the absence of overt negativity or judgment, responses often take the form of a carefully curated veneer of concern, designed to enhance the individual’s public image. This performativity rarely fosters meaningful engagement with the emotions or experiences of others. Instead, it reflects the broader issues of apathy and superficiality that dominate digital interactions. Compounding this is the overwhelming deluge of content we encounter on social media, often spending no more than a few seconds on each post before scrolling on. This is a paradox of engagement: while social media presents endless opportunities to learn about current events or individual experiences, the sheer volume of information triggers cognitive fatigue and emotional shutdown, hindering meaningful reflection or action. Building on this is the theory of “compassion collapse” (Cameron & Payne, 2011), which suggests that as the number of people or causes requiring empathy increases, our ability to empathize with any one individual diminishes. This erosion of empathy underscores how social media both overstimulates and desensitizes, creating an environment that makes deep emotional connections increasingly rare.
We can’t always resist the pull of stimulating content—after all, who among us hasn’t fallen victim to a bit of well-placed “ragebait”? For those seeking to navigate the digital world without compromising emotional well-being, researchers have proposed alternatives. “Prosocial media” platforms, designed to prioritise meaningful interactions and mental health over cheap engagement metrics, offer a potential path forward (Tang, 2024). These platforms aim to foster compassion and connection rather than eroding them. But in practice, they often feel like digital mirages. I’ve cycled through countless spaces: abandoning “X” as it devolved into a wasteland of sensationalist headlines and algorithmic junk, returning to Instagram only to encounter the same imported bigotry from Facebook (thank you, Meta), and dabbling in TikTok, where my interests—psychology, art history, red pandas, gastronomy—briefly flourished before the inevitable frustrations of toxic comment sections set in. While Bluesky, often heralded as the future of prosocial media, holds promise, it remains in its infancy and leaves much to be proven (Tang, 2024).
While seeking out better platforms is an important step, it cannot replace the need to step away from screens entirely. Our society is increasingly allergic to human interaction, where making a phone call, asking a stranger for directions, or even picking up groceries in person feels like a Herculean effort. When loneliness inevitably catches up, real-world exchanges often feel foreign and immobilizing. This detachment is compounded by the erosion of empathy caused by excessive exposure to digital interactions, as noted by researchers such as Guan et al. (2019) and Cameron and Payne (2011). Yet, with practice, these interactions can become easier—natural, even. Reducing exposure to overwhelming newsfeeds and fostering in-person relationships, however small, can help us rediscover the art of connection. Simple acts like sharing a meal, taking a walk, or “touching grass” remind us that empathy is not something to perform but something to live.
References:
Cameron, C. D., & Payne, B. K. (2011). Escaping affect: How motivated emotion regulation creates insensitivity to mass suffering. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 100(1), 1–15. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0021643
Chou, H. G., Wang, C. C., & Shen, C. (2021). The role of social media in shaping performative empathy and compassion. Journal of Media Psychology, 33(4), 215–227. https://doi.org/10.1027/1864-1105/a000301
Ducharme, J. (2023). The whole world is at risk for 'compassion fatigue.' Time. https://time.com/6332107/compassion-fatigue-risk/
Guan, S. S. A., Hain, S., Cabrera, J., & Rodarte, A. (2019). Social media use and empathy: A mini meta-analysis. Social Networking, 8(4), 147–157. https://doi.org/10.4236/sn.2019.84010
Sacks, O. (2015, April 6). The machine stops. The New Yorker. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/02/11/the-machine-stops
Silard, A. (2022, July). The role of social media in our empathy crisis. Psychology Today. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-art-living-free/202207/the-role-social-media-in-our-empathy-crisis
Tang, A. (2024, November 26). Embrace the shift to ‘prosocial media.’ WIRED. https://www.wired.com/story/prosocial-media-social-networks-discourse-decentralization/
Also, people on social media always seem to make it a competition to see who has it worse, completely disregarding the other persons feelings/emotions.