The Internet Is Our Favorite Frenemy

Do you feel like you are having an emotional tug‑of‑war with the internet? It’s a constant back‑and‑forth between “I love you” and “I need a nap.” I feel that way.

Social media is such a strange digital ecosystem where outrage is the native language, angst is the background music, and everyone seems to be performing a version of themselves that’s way more indignant than reality. If the internet were junior high, your mom would say, “Just don’t sit with those kids at lunch!”

It’s a place where people pose as supporters of noble causes, but only long enough to stir the pot, rile the crowd, and generate the kind of traffic that keeps algorithms humming. If the ancient Greeks had invented Twitter, they would have called it a public forum, but they also would have built a drainage system underneath it. Because let’s be honest: most platforms today feel less like a town square and more like an online version of The Jerry Springer Show.

The irony is that social media was originally marketed as a utopian connector — a place where people could share ideas, build community, and post photos of their lunch without judgment. But somewhere along the way, those lunch photos turned into political statements, ideas became battlegrounds, and the community transformed into a group of loosely connected fighters who all think they’re the only ones with the moral high ground. The platforms didn’t cause this shift; they just rewarded the behavior that kept people clicking. And nothing encourages more clicks than a good old-fashioned digital bare-knuckle brawl.

Part of the problem is that outrage is now a performance. People don’t just support causes; they audition for them. They adopt issues the way others adopt pets — impulsively, loudly, and with varying degrees of commitment. One minute, they’re posting a heartfelt paragraph about saving the planet, and the next, they’re yelling at a stranger to “go back where they came from.” It’s activism as sport, advocacy as content. And while some of it is sincere, a surprising amount is simply engagement farming dressed up as moral clarity.

Emotionally charged content spreads quickly online because it’s simple, loud, and instantly stimulating, while calmer ideas take time and attention — two things the internet rarely encourages. Thoughtful posts ask readers to slow down, consider context, and maybe even read more than one sentence. Outrage, meanwhile, is the digital equivalent of fast food: quick, addictive, and almost guaranteed to leave you feeling worse after you’ve consumed it.

And yet, despite everything, I truly believe we need social media. Or at least, we haven’t figured out how to live without it. It’s where news breaks, communities form, marginalized voices get amplified, and people who feel isolated suddenly feel connected. It’s also where professionals, writers, educators, and creators share their work, build audiences, and connect with readers. In other words, it’s a cesspool — but it’s our cesspool. We complain about it the way people complain about their hometown: loudly, often, and with no real plan to leave.

The challenge is learning how to survive in this environment without letting it break our sanity. That means watching what we take in, resisting the urge to perform outrage just for attention, and remembering that not every thought needs an audience. (Maybe like this article?) It also involves engaging with causes offline, where real stakes exist, and conversations are less likely to turn into a thread of strangers yelling in all caps. It also means seeing social media as a tool, not a personality test. It shows us, but it doesn’t have to define us.

Social media is a messy, noisy, sometimes toxic place that still remains essential. The goal isn’t to avoid it completely, but to navigate it with enough self-awareness to prevent being pulled into the stream of performative anger. If we can do that, we might find a way to use the platforms without becoming part of the problem — or at least without adding to the smell.

Technologist Jaron Lanier once said, “The internet is a great experiment in human behavior — and we’re the lab rats.” He nailed it.

(Tim Herrera is the author of “Public Speaking: Simple Steps to Improve Your Skills” and “Mastering Media: Strategies for Effective Communication in the Digital Age.”  You will find both Amazon. You will also find him on Substack at When Life Has Other Plans.)