How do we solve our disagreements? A couple of examples could paint a picture… Consider landlords and tenants. Not long ago, disputes were settled through dialogue—a process involving a bit of give and take that ideally produced some mutual understanding and a way forward. Now, however, those private disagreements have become digital fodder. Instead of negotiating in good faith, parties often resort to portraying their dispute in the most sensational terms, seeking the moral high ground in the court of public opinion.
Once upon a time, the workplace was an arena where disputes were generally managed with some confidentiality. But when social media archives every slight—real or perceived—that erodes the norms that facilitate compromise and resolution. The threat of social media controversy becomes a formidable weapon between employees and employers. Finding a middle ground is replaced by public (read social media) vindication.
You may think too that the urban-rural divide has, in recent years, morphed into a caricature of itself. Complex issues that concern all Kiwis, such as environmental conservation and the future of our economy, now seem unable to be discussed except in the most defensive terms possible. Provocative headlines designed to draw clicks and meme warfare typecast city dwellers as clueless elites while rural communities are demeaned as retrograde holdouts.
But perhaps most alarmingly, social media has corroded the integrity of our political conversations. The line between left and right is not just being drawn but dangerously fortified with explosive emotions. Social media not only amplifies our inherent biases but provides the kindling for them to combust into full-blown conflicts.
This warning is not hypothetical. The literal flames of division in events like the U.S. Capitol riots or the George Floyd protests fed directly into the narratives and, ultimately, violence of the Parliamentary occupation in 2022. Would it have happened without the seemingly unstoppable transmission of toxic American “Culture Wars” through social media into our country?
Recent events in Gaza highlight this with startling clarity. There have been claims and counter-claims on both sides. We have seen initial reports based on unverified claims retracted as further information comes to hand. Yet, as media certainty recedes, social media inflammation of the stories continues to flare.
While it may be tempting to place the blame solely on news outlets for the spread of the initial misinformation, it’s important to note that the critical caveats of the story were there in the body of the reporting. When an article claims “Palestinian officials say” in relation to something supposedly done by Israel, we should be able to take that as an indication that the information is not presented as the unimpeachable truth.
This isn’t to absolve media organisations of responsibility. They should be more careful, particularly in volatile breaking news situations. But it’s also crucial for us to apply critical analysis to the information they consume. And that only happens if we care more about the truth than we do about being vindicated in the latest chapter of the culture wars.
Political cures for the social fissures widened by our digital habits are limited. Legislation, by nature, tends to be reactive, which is no good in an Internet Age where angry discourse mutates and spreads as quickly as a virus. Moreover, no amount of regulation can bring into existence the traits we need to cultivate genuine digital communities. Empathy, decency, and moral accountability do not spring from an Order in Council.
This is not to say that lawmakers have no role to play in crafting appropriate boundaries. However, they can’t cure the underlying pressures driving us apart. That falls on, well, you.
And me.
This task may seem impossible. But, as Edmund Burke (supposedly) said, “Nobody made a greater mistake than he who did nothing because he could do only a little.”
So, what’s the little can we do?
First, be distrustful of information, especially when it aligns with our existing beliefs. One 2022 study shows the size of this challenge. Researchers looked into our propensity to share content we haven’t read by conducting a series of seven studies that demonstrated that sharing content increases our subjective perception of our knowledge, even if our objective understanding of the subject has not improved. In other words, when we share something online, we feel like we have gained knowledge; in reality, we haven’t. Due diligence in our digital lives isn’t just something to be recommended. It needs to be an essential part of how we engage with each other online. We need to come to see actually reading the article as a civic responsibility.
We need discernment in how we engage. The digital realm, like the physical one, contains its fair share of toxicity. Choosing not to engage in such discussions is an ethical stance.
The real solution does not lie in the hands of those in power or in legislation but in the actions of individuals across the nation. Parliament alone won’t bring about change, but our individual resolve will. This resolve must be reflected in how we interact with our digital neighbours. These online relationships are not separate entities; they are an extension of our broader social interactions.
To truly uphold the “old-fashioned” Kiwi values of community, fairness, and respect in the digital age, we must be willing to actively embody these principles online. It’s not just about avoiding harm but also about making positive contributions to the digital atmosphere through depolarisation through the only means readily available to us: our own conduct. The guts of the matter is this: If we want a digital space that strengthens rather than weakens our social bonds, we, as individual users, must lead the way. Let’s start by reading the damned article.