Social Media Risks: Sparse and Random
Today’s increasingly toxic online environment has itself become a topic of debate. In the US, both political ends are considering changes to social media. They are looking at protections like Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act, which specifies that liability for social communication rests with individual contributors, not platform providers. They are considering antitrust legislation. And they both decry the effects of “cancel culture”.
Funny thing is, a lot of this does not really appear contributive to societal good. Studies have linked social media to depression, anger, and misinformation. For individual participants, there must be some utility — after all, many participate in it for hours a day. The benefit case is not obvious though in real economic terms.
This author does not use social media much for “social media” — I’ve found closed online communities to be a better choice for me, and had elected to #deletefacebook before it became a thing. I have found that many technically-minded colleagues have made similar choices, as awareness of the marketing-industrial complex and its power through technology tends to be higher in that group. They've opted out.
Social media does matter economically quite a bit though for a subset of people. They have been generally put in the “influencer” bucket, although some have built professional reputation outside of social media. Brands directly pay such influencers increasing amounts of marketing spend; estimates range from $5B to $15B in 2021. The media channels themselves pay influencers, with top earners making tens of millions of dollars a year. And direct payment for placement is a lucrative business for some, with Kim Kardashian famously charging $1M a post.
For some participants, social media is a major business. And it’s one that is easy to lose quickly. One wrong tweet can derail your audience, with countless examples in the media. And the platform itself can decide to remove your account access, vaporizing your business overnight.
New models are arising to service such risks. They have migrated quickly from publication to monetization. For those with large social media bases, these can be viable. Cancellation for such luminaries is overrated.
For the rest of us, though, we face different risks. For those of us running a business, a hobby, or just a group of friends, the risks come from the influencers themselves. If we attract the wrong sort of attention in the social media machine, it can upend our lives. Moving to an independent column is not an option for us. Our business can be threatened.
Is the market providing remedies for that risk? Not really. We could hunt down the influencer who started throwing bricks at our social media presence and sue. And occasionally, that works. But it’s scattershot, and does nothing to really fix the problem.
A “random sparse” enforcement model for social media influence abuse doesn’t really work. Driving down any major highway will tell you this: speed limits are set with such a model, and they are routinely ignored. The Tri-State Speedway, er, freeway, near my house has a nominal 65mph speed limit and these days if you’re not doing 80, you’re getting passed.
The RIAA tried this model to enforce music copyright and reduce piracy, to much negative press over $200,000 judgments against individuals for minor infringement and little practical effect. Such models don’t apply frequently enough to affect risk perception in their desired way — they just appear capricious and mean-spirited. Just like social media these days.
What does work is reducing the incentive imbalance. Music piracy eventually became a minor issue. Enforcement didn’t drive that, and technical lockdown didn’t drive that. What drove it was a change in business models that changed the underlying benefits and risks. It was far easier for most folks to pay Spotify or Apple Music $10 a month than it was to deal with The Pirate Bay and Bittorrent. That’s what worked.
How will this apply to social media? We shall see.