Let’s be honest with ourselves for a moment. How many people that you follow on social media, — be it Instagram, TikTok, X, YouTube — do you know personally? Is it 50%? 25%? Less? Now let’s take it further, how many people that you follow do you really like?
I’m guessing that number is higher. You probably enjoy most of the content on your feed. You want to share it with other friends and family. Maybe it inspires you to try new things, new recipes, new DIY projects. The people that you follow give you new ideas. You bookmark the posts to come back to later.
A popular influencer I followed on Instagram recently went through a major body transformation. She doesn’t shy away from sharing what she eats, what supplements she takes, or her workout routines. In fact, she’s more than honest on the subject. She’s proud of her body, and she’s flaunting it – as one does on social media.
The comments from strangers on her posts? Scathing – accusations of an eating disorder, critiques of her methods of weight loss, shaming her for sharing her body as someone who “should be a role model” to others.
I won’t speculate on her personal life – how on earth could we look at a few pictures and truly know what is going on in her home. What I find interesting is how many people who comment on her posts seem to hate her.
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this particular influencer get backlash. She gets heat for her parenting decisions, her lack of political commentary, and her lifestyle choices. You can observe this just from reading her comment section, but just imagine the deleted comments, her DMs, and the message boards literally dedicated to trash-talking her.
She is only one in a sea of influencers, content creators, and micro-celebrities who we, as consumers, vilify on the internet.
This isn’t a conversation about influencers nor a defense of their actions. This is a conversation about us – the content consumers. Why are we still following these creators we seem to actually hate?
If I’m putting a hypothesis together, I’ll start with a couple assumptions – 1. We love drama and 2. We are built to seek feelings of superiority.
Low-stakes drama
Whether you love reality tv, neck-and-neck sports games, or prestige series from premium networks, humans are drawn to drama. Even better, we love it when it’s low-stakes – meaning that there’s no personal fall-out in your life.
It’s human nature to be drawn to the salacious. In 2020, amid a very boring-for-me (because I was lucky) stay at home order, I was sucked into an Instagram drama surrounding one NYC micro-influencer who began a take-down of another fitness influencer and her business. At first, I was enthralled, reading DM after DM of testimonials that the former received about the latter. It devolved into slander, fake accounts, and ultimately multiple lawsuits between the two. It was addictive. It probably took me a full two weeks to open my eyes and realize that I was only fueling the drama by giving these influencers more views. And ultimately, who could blame them? They were creating drama and using their new audience to profit by promoting affiliate links and their businesses. Is this really any different than television shows, sports games, or the primetime news cycle fueling drama to rake in the advertising dollars?
But do I need to participate in it? What am I really gaining from investing hours in a drama that doesn’t affect me personally. Despite the excitement of it unfolding live and nearly all day, it’s not actually a creative story. What I mean by this is, can’t I still satiate the “low-stakes drama” itch by watching a well-produced TV show or reading a novel that will have a true story arc?
In the example I shared, I honestly don’t know how the drama ended. In fact, I think even 4 years later, it’s still going on. It was frivolous, it left me empty, and there was never a resolution. Why did I waste my precious time on these complete strangers and their – frankly – insane story?
I suppose it is always going back to the ease of picking up your phone, laying back, and being able to pick up exactly where you left off no matter where you are. You can consume it in bite-sized pieces, and when the “stories” run out, you can click on over to the other hundreds of influencers you follow. The tiny dopamine hits keep coming, and you’re trained to keep coming back.
I’m better than you
On an early episode of Armchair Expert, there was a conversation between Kristen Bell, Dax Shepard, and Monica Padman that has always stuck with me. I’m going to paraphrase, but the idea is that over the history of time, we as humans have always been in small communities — say of around max 100 people that you really know. This leaves room for almost everyone to be the best at something – someone who is the best at growing tomatoes, someone who is the best at mediating fights, someone who is the best bike rider, the best shoe cobbler. You get the idea.
Now that we have access to billions of people and what they are doing, it’s harder to feel like you’re the best at anything. We chase this feeling of superiority, but it’s impossible to attain because when you’re on the Internet, nearly everyone will be better than you at something.
So, we take it where we can get it…
“Wow she still hasn’t lost the baby weight?”
“I cannot believe they chose that hideous light fixture.”
“Did you see what total crap she packed in her kid’s school lunches? Doesn’t she claim to be “crunchy”?
These tiny comments – even when just said to ourselves – fuel this feeling that we are actually better than them.
Love-to-hate, hate watching, hate following – none of these are new ideas. They’re categorized as “guilty pleasures,” but I think that's the wrong way to describe these habits. It is inherently negative to indulge in these behaviors. You’re feeding negativity and the insecurity that grows inside of you. Would you really categorize judging other people as pleasurable?
Find a way to scratch the itch in healthier ways
When it comes to seeking drama, it’s all about balance. Binging reality TV all day is likely no different than scrolling dramas on social media, but watching sports with your buddies or a new show with your partner might be a healthier indulgence.
Where I really challenge you to pivot your thinking is on the topic of chasing superiority. Belittling someone – publicly or privately – doesn’t make you a better person. Unfollow the accounts that make your eyes roll. Maybe what you need is a confidence boost – identify the things you are good at and spend time doing these things. Accept that you won’t be the best in the world, but you are likely the best at something in your circle. Be proud of the little things.
Life is too short to waste time chasing superiority. You will never find true happiness by putting down others. Quit hate following. You’re better than that.
Hi reader. In the coming weeks, I’m launching a new reader Q&A series. If you have a question about digital minimalism or starting your own journey to break free from the internet, shoot me a message at the link below.