Elon_Musk_(3018710552) (1)

Happy Rejoining Twitter Day

For all those keeping social media at arm’s length, maybe today’s a chance to take a second look? The online public square needs you!
A condensed version of this was published April 26, 2022 in the Deseret News.

When the news broke late yesterday that Elon Musk had successfully acquired Twitter, the reaction among many was predictably dire. Hofstra University associate professor Kara Alaimo, for instance, forecast on CNN that the Twitter sale “may be the death knell for the social media platform.” And under the ominous headline, “Twitter Under Elon Musk Will Be a Scary Place,” Greg Bensinger suggested that when Musk insists Twitter be an “inclusive arena for free speech,” what he really means is “free speech for people like Mr. Musk.”

This New York Times editorial board member went on to portray Twitter’s new owner as a paragon of racism, sexism, and wealth—with Dr. Alaimo further speculating that public figures “won’t want to be associated” with a platform that isn’t “inclusive” and which is known to spread “questionable” content.   

These are precisely the concerns, of course, which have motivated well-intentioned efforts over recent yearsaccelerated since the election of President Trumpto use moderation on social media platforms to encourage people to have the right kinds of conversations.  

About the election. About the pandemic. About sexuality and gender. About climate change.  

If only we could help people embrace the right information and “diligently combat misinformation”so the argument goesthen we could ensure people (and society as a whole) would be moving forward in “healthy” and “safe” ways.

As people of faith have fled social media in record numbers, they’ve also made it an even more barren landscape intellectually and spiritually.

It’s understandable that many found this line of thinking comforting and reassuring, especially amidst the political, social, and health turmoil of recent years. But equal numbers have found it all a bit creepy, prompting some of us to crack open Brave New World or 1984 for the first time since high school.

There’s nothing wrong with strongly advocating one’s convictions about truth to all the worldan unabashed specialty of Christians everywhere. But when any particular view gets enshrined in a state or other corporate or media entity with the power to dictate thought and action for millions of lives, that’s a whole ‘nother story.  

Which is why many of us see news of Twitter’s new ownership as something to celebrate, not a sign of impending doom, and why some people who had left the platform wasted no time in returning.

New opportunities for voices of faith online.  In recent years, many millions of right-leaning and religiously-oriented Americans have admittedly given up on social media. Completely.  

Rarely a week goes by that I don’t hear of some other friend bragging about deleting all their social media accounts. And can you really blame them? 

From rampant animosity to mounting censorship to creeping pornography, online social engagement presented lots of risksand seemingly few benefits. Yet ironically, as people of faith have fled social media in record numbers, they’ve also made it an even more barren landscape intellectually and spiritually.

Perhaps it isn’t yet time to flee into our ideological bomb shelters? Indeed, in this very moment in time where blue checks on Twitter threaten a mass exodus, could it be time for normal Americans to move in the opposite directionreclaiming ground they had been ceding in “the new public square for discourse and engagement,” as Utah state senators Stuart Adams and Mike McKell called social media in these pages last year? 

I sure think so. And I’m definitely not the only one encouraging you to “stop deleting your Facebook” (and Twitter). Referring to the “small trickle” of efforts to communicate hopeful messages through social media, Elder David A. Bednar encouraged an audience of Latter-day Saints in 2014 to “help transform that trickle into a flood” in a way that could “sweep the earth with messages filled with righteousness and truth—messages that are authentic, edifying, and praiseworthy.” 

Such counsel echoes the earlier wisdom of Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis, who wrote in 1927 that when a need arises to “expose … falsehood and fallacies” or “avert the evil” around us, “the remedy to be applied is more speech, not enforced silence.”

It’s not just Christians, of course, who have things of great worth to share with the world.  Imagine what would happen if everyone had a chance to share what they found to be good, true, and beautiful with the world. What a world that would be!  

Sensible social media concerns. We don’t, of course, live in an Edenic intellectual world where everyone opening their mouth has something beautiful to share. And in that, we should take seriously reminders that “Twitter has never been a place for rational, nuanced speech” and cautions about inadvertently “silencing many people” and pushing away “thoughtful users” who “aren’t going to voluntarily keep using a platform on which they’re bombarded with abuse.”

Clearly, some kind of healthy moderation will always be helpful anywhere ideas are exchangedbe that online or in person. But no amount of policing can replace our own collective exercise of virtuous exchangeincluding both practiced civility and decency in our sharing, and enough humility and curiosity to listen as others do the same.  

Yet this is morenot lessimportant in a time when our civic atmosphere becomes especially strained and harsh.  What better time for voices of peace and kindness to be heard?  Near the chaotic and anguished beginning of the pandemic, President Russell Nelson taught that light can “shine ever brighter” precisely amidst “the increasing darkness that accompanies tribulation.” 

Throughout virtually all of human history, that sharing of goodness has happened personally— one by one.  House by house.  And door by door.  Occasionally in a synagogue—or perhaps standing on a wall in a city.

What would these ancient teachers have thought about possibly standing up on a Facebook wall?  Would they have scoffed and turned away in disgust at the vitriol that some people post back in response? 

Arrows certainly didn’t stop them in real life—continuing to share despite beingcast out, and mocked, and spit upon, and smote upon our cheeks.”

Will rhetorical threats stop us from sharing our hearts?  

I hope not.  Because the risks of sharing goodness are worth it. That experience of being able to bring uplift and encouragement into someone else’s life is worth whatever cost.  

None of this, of course, means we need to become “social media experts or fanatics” as Elder Bednar later cautioned—adding, “we do not need to spend inordinate amounts of time creating and disseminating elaborate messages.”

Imagine what would happen if everyone had a chance to share what they found to be good, true, and beautiful with the world.

It’s also true that the addictive, entertaining elements of social media have threatened to eclipse meaningful activities in people’s lives.  If you are one of the many, who open social media first thing in the morning—as soon as they turn off their mobile alarm—before they even get out of bed, maybe think more about the proper time and place to engage in social media. Ask yourself who you want your first interactions of the day—and last interactions at night—to be?

If you are one of the many with an unhealthy relationship with social media, by all means, take a detox, a fast, a vacation for as long as you need. If you’re one for whom social media has fed unhealthy obsessions or cravings—even tempting you to initiate toxic relationships—put in place strict safeguards, perhaps a joint account with someone else you trust and love. If you’re one for whom social media has become a nexus of toxic social comparison—and a regular way to “grind down” your own self-esteem—use this as an opportunity to step back and consider seriously what and where your worth comes from.  

Yes, the risks and dangers of social media are real—especially in excessive, unbounded, unguided ways. Christopher Cunningham once cautioned about the strong pull of our surrounding culture to make “peeping Toms” of all of us, as we look in on people’s lives with obsessive fascination—alternatively craving aspects of someone else’s lives and then “reveling in another person’s sin, crimes, escapades, or misery.”

That doesn’t have to be how we act though!  Because we can also choose to “rejoice not in iniquity” (wrong-doing, injustice, sin, evil),” and to instead “rejoice in the truth.” 

A truth so precious that it’s worth every sacrifice to share, with anyone who will listen.  

Anywhere.  Including online. 

Even in 280 characters.  

___________________

 We gathered seven tips for “healthier social media engagement” last year as a magazine, copied below:   

  • Careful boundaries. Be conscientious of the time and place you engage in something like Facebook:  Not at work, school, or Church.  Not when around children.  And not right before bed—or first thing in the morning. Fight (hard) to preserve times in which your attention is needed for present commitments and people. 
  • Be proactive more than reactive. Rather than spending your time on Facebook just reacting to what others say, consider planning out (and maybe writing out) what you want to share before even going on the platform, as well as individuals you want to contact first—before scrolling any news or messages that have come in.  
  • Healthy expectations of response. Don’t impose on yourself unrealistic expectations of responding to every message or response that comes.  While doing your best to listen to what others are saying, it’s not necessary to respond, address, validate, and moderate everything that happens. So, don’t try! 
  • Don’t take disagreement personally. When someone shares another perspective (or even a critique of what you’ve said), practice taking a breath and “sitting with the discomfort” in a way that lets you hear what they are trying to say.  Is there anything in what they are sharing that you can appreciate or validate?  Start there.  If you choose to respond, thank them for being willing to share another perspective, and point out what you find helpful about it.  Then share, even just briefly, what else their thought brings to mind. (If a back-and-forth ensues, remember you can choose to follow it further if it’s helpful—or move on, and not feel pressured to continue it.)  
  • Block toxic voices anytime you need. If someone shows up not interested in real conversation, and (clearly) only wanting to attack, don’t feel bad about blocking them from your page.  You can also choose to hide their posts but stay friends. Be careful not to over-interpret honest disagreement as an “attack.” This is about protecting your page from haters—not manicuring it towards ideological uniformity. 
  • Embrace pluralism and healthy contestation.  Embrace the pluralism of our public spaces—and commit to be a part of it, however challenging, scary, and exhilarating it can all be. 
  • Take regular social media sabbaths, vacations, and daily pauses.  Once a week, we have found it helpful to take a complete and total break from social media for a full day (like Sunday)—along with similar breaks on a daily basis.  Try to reserve first thing in the morning or the last thing at night—the bookends of your day—for the people most important in your life, including God.

 

About the author

Jacob Z. Hess

Jacob Hess is a staff writer and Latter-day Saint Voices editor at Deseret News and publishes longer-form pieces at PublishPeace.net. He co-authored "You're Not as Crazy as I Thought, But You're Still Wrong" and “The Power of Stillness: Mindful Living for Latter-day Saints.” He has a Ph.D. in clinical-community psychology from the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign.
On Key

You Might Also Like

The Ordinary Saint’s Guide to Under the Banner of Heaven

In an age that claims to value “own voices” media, it is sad that Under the Banner of Heaven is probably going to be the biggest story that the public sees about members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints this year or this decade. While the tale it tells is based on an actual occurrence and about some actual problems within the broader movement of people hearkening back to Joseph Smith, one thing that can’t be said for either the book or the show was that they were written by a member of our community. The producer may have “grown up” as a Latter-day Saint, but he left the faith before he was an adult. If you’ve never had the experience of holding a calling, making temple covenants, or negotiating the relationships that make up a ward (Latter-day Saint congregation), are you really the best person to interpret our community? So I’m stepping in to offer my perspective. I am not a historian or theologian. So, though I try to be informed about the difficult parts of our religion’s past, I can only give you the perspective of what an average member would know or believe about these situations. I undoubtedly will get some of the nuances wrong. This will not be the best place if you’re looking for information about the historical accuracy of the show. (Consider checking FAIR’s guide or Book of Mormon Central.) However, I am an active participant in the larger Latter-day Saint literary community. I’ve written essays about my own life as a woman in the Church and fictional stories about others. I studied Latter-day Saint literature in college and continue reading contemporary Latter-day Saint literature. I am on the board of the Association for Mormon Letters, an organization that promotes literature written by, for, or about those who tie back to the prophet Joseph (including members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but not exclusive to our denomination). So you might say I have some experience with portrayals of the Latter-day Saints and separate fundamentalist communities. The purpose of this series of recaps is two-fold. First, I want to summarize the series for ordinary Latter-day Saints who don’t intend to watch it so they won’t be surprised around the metaphorical watercooler this week. Second, I will catalog the series as it compares to Latter-day Saint literature more broadly. As a writer, reader, and advocate of Latter-day Saint literature, this is my home turf. I am interested to see where the show gets things right and wrong. Granted, my experience isn’t the experience of every member; like any community, Latter-day Saints are not a monolith. But I will compare the show to my personal knowledge of our community and talk about what sticks out. Without further ado, here are my impressions of the first two episodes of Under the Banner of Heaven. Episode 1, “When God Was Love”  Summary—The episode opens with Detective Pyre being called away from his family’s Pioneer Day celebrations to visit a crime scene. At an ordinary suburban house, he finds a scene of chaos with a mother (Brenda Lafferty) and her 15-month-old daughter (Erica) murdered in a gruesome way. (Luckily, we are only shown large quantities of blood on the floor and walls; the show shies away from showing the bodies, though we will get hints through dialogue about the exact method of killing.) Soon the husband (Allen Lafferty) is taken into custody, his clothes soaked in his wife’s blood. The killer claims that his wife was murdered by men with beards like “Mormon prophets” and continually ties his wife’s murder back to early church history stories, particularly Joseph and Emma marrying against her father’s will. We then get a flashback to a young Brenda. She is an energetic and ambitious young woman who transfers to BYU after being tired of “holding girl’s hair back while they puked” at her party school in Idaho. Allen introduces Brenda to his family at a large family dinner. His brothers seem both strangely attracted to her and judgmental of her for her ambition and less strict faith (caffeinated soda is mentioned). The Lafferty family band together to clear a neighbor’s land to prevent it from being seized by the federal government to build a highway. In the present, Detective Pyre’s partner Bill visits Allen’s brother Robin’s home and finds the house abandoned and papers burning. They arrest Robin after a chase through a motel. This episode depicts the First Vision. It shows Joseph going to the woods to pray and a light shining down on him. The script draws parallels between Joseph’s prayer and Robin’s prayer in the woods before he is caught by the police, which doesn’t really make much sense except that they are both kneeling in a natural setting. We also get a scene of Joseph and Emma discussing whether to marry against her father’s wishes. The show tries to make a big deal of them choosing between “God’s will” and her father’s authority, implying that the problem is that they can justify almost anything as God’s will. I found this assertion pretty strange, given that Joseph and Emma were hardly the first couple to marry against a parent’s wishes. It seems a thin justification on which to hang a condemnation of trusting God. Shibboleths—It’s apparent that the showrunners have made an effort to try to include jargon of Latter-day Saints in the dialogue. Sometimes this works: the Pyre family prayer scene feels exactly like the ones that take place in my family. Others make it apparent that the writers are not members of the community. While we do refer to God as Heavenly Father, particularly in prayer, we don’t use this term exclusively like the characters in the show. I regularly hear members refer to him as “God” or “the Lord,” and a brief search of the church’s 1980’s general conference talks shows that this isn’t a new innovation. While there is

Convenient Post-Modernism

As the last bulwark for the rule of law in our nation, I’ve been discouraged to see the attacks on the Supreme Court from all corners in light of the recently leaked decision in the Dobbs abortion case. We’ll likely be looking at this issue in greater depth in Public Square soon. But for now, I wanted to highlight just how pervasive anti-institutionalism has become across our country. https://stream.org/were-all-postmodernists-now/ John Stonestreet and G.S. Morris write for the Stream about how “We’re all Postmodernists Now.” They are focusing on a loss of trust primarily from the political right. Which is why the sudden return of this trend to the left is so noteworthy. Post-modernism is not a sustainable framework, but it is increasingly used as a temporary tool to pursue specific political or cultural goals. As Latter-day Saints, we agree with their statement that, “Truth is knowable and that it doesn’t depend on the source but a reality external to ourselves.”  These trends are certainly worthy of continued concern.  

Subscribe To Our Weekly Newsletter

Stay up to date on the intersection of faith in the public square.

You have Successfully Subscribed!