by Ploum on 2022-11-01
A little over a year ago, I deleted my Twitter account. A verified account with the famous blue icon, followed by nearly 7,000 other Twitter accounts.
While not exceptional, this account was nonetheless relatively "influential" on the Twitter scale. However, I decided to try the experience of doing without it completely, just to see. I knew I had a year to change my mind. For a year, my account would be "reactivable" before being permanently deleted. So I have a few weeks left to change my mind.
And yet, I wouldn't.
I had already logged out of my Twitter account for varying periods of time, up to three months. But deletion is another kettle of fish. Within days, I just stopped thinking about what was happening on Twitter. I stopped thinking that this network existed. The experience was the same for Facebook and LinkedIn: by deleting the account, I took a huge burden off my shoulders. But it was for Twitter, the network to which I was most addicted, that the feeling was strongest.
It's easy to opt out of networks you don't like or use very little. The real change comes from accepting to leave a network we know is harmful, to ourselves and to the world, andyet not being able to do without. Because we are convinced that we get more good out of it than bad.
I am a blogger and writer seeking fame. Someone who is looking for the buzz. Someone who seeks to sell books, to be read, to reach readers. Social media is literally made for people like me. And yet, they take a lot from me while bringing me very little. Pseudoprofits are just pie in the sky. A blue icon next to my name? Big deal ! A four-digit number under the brand "subscribers"? A simple fools' trap for me to try at all costs to increase it.
I don't miss Twitter. On the contrary. I keep wondering why I didn't leave sooner. Why those who, like me, are aware of the nocivity of this platform give it credibility by staying on it. (I'm not going to blame them, I was one of them less than a year ago).
I smile at the naivety of some users who are indignant at the arrival of Elon Musk at the head of Twitter. It was clear from the start, right? You are "users". You are a commodity, you create the value of the company, whether it's for Elon Musk or someone else. You are the goods sold and your indignation only fuels debates, interactions and therefore publicity.
There is no right way to use a proprietary network. By creating an account, we agree to be used, manipulated and that each of our interactions will be monetized there.
Already 5 years ago, I tried to promote Mastodon, a free and decentralized alternative to Twitter. I often read remarks that it is much more complicated.
No.
It's just different. If you can't use Mastodon, it's just because you don't want to.
It's easier to eat a McDonald's burger than a balanced meal with vegetables. It's easier to dump your waste in a park than to sort it. The easy argument is not a real one. The world shapes itself according to the energy we put into it.
Do you have to create an account with a password and everything?
Also on Twitter. It's just what you're used to.
But when you
connected to a Mastodon server, you discovered that you had 0
followers, that you no longer had the little blue icon, that you no
longer knew how to "promote your tweets", that you no
longer saw more likes displayed live under your messages. That's
why you have not returned and therefore have forgotten your
password. It is easier to accuse free software of being complicated
than to face your own emptiness.
If you don't feel like learning how to use Mastodon, that's understandable. Nobody is forcing you. But don't blame the platform.
Twitter is very good at tricking you into thinking you're an important user. But on the Fediverse, the decentralized network in which the Mastodon servers participate, there are no users, let alone important ones. There are just people who are all equals.
This is perhaps the most difficult to accept: it is neither Mastodon nor free software the problem. It's you. You are the one trying to feel important, to be valued. By buying expensive clothes, or the latest iPhone on the day of its release, or a big car or a blue icon next to your Twitter handle. Or simply by having a lot of retweets, by being quoted a lot in the debates.
The question is not to make a Twitter-without-Elon-Musk. The question is to know what we want, what we are looking for. To distinguish between what we claim ("to communicate") and what we really want ("to be valued", "to have the feeling of existing").
I have several times suggested removing the public display of the number of followers in Mastodon to cut short any potential speculation on this indicator. If I realize that an account has a lot of followers, I tend instinctively to think that this person is important, that his opinion is worth listening to. I don't think I'm the only one.
If your personal morals condemn what Twitter is or what it is becoming, I can only invite you to try the experience of deleting your account. Remember: you have one year to change your mind.
Ignore these so important conversations, this community that you cannot "give up", these virtual enemies who will see your departure as a victory. Just try to align yourself with your own moral values. Just to see.
Deleting your account is also the one and only way to protest, to hit the company where it hurts.
Of course you can also come to Mastodon. But it is not necessary. It may even be counterproductive. If you were addicted to Twitter, you will be tempted to see Mastodon as a substitute. It's probably best to wean yourself off Twitter before you find out anything else.
Install the libredirect extension in your browser, so that you can continue to consult Twitter through the Nitter interface (you can even follow Twitter accounts in your RSS reader). On Android, use Fritter.