Social media has lost all its early promise

Do you remember when social media was in its blushing infancy, all dewy-eyed innocence and fumbling first steps? Back then, it was a charming novelty, a delightful new bauble to play with, and we embraced it with the wide-eyed wonder of children who've just stumbled upon a shiny new toy.

How the times have changed. Social media has curdled like sour milk left out in the sun. The rose tint has worn off those spectacles through which we once viewed it, and the digital dream has become a waking nightmare.

Part of the problem is that social media companies are vested in monetising our attention. The more time we spend scrolling and liking, the more ads they can ply us with. Our data is sold to the highest bidder so they can relentlessly target us. We've gone from being the customer to being the product.

It's gotten to the point where social media feels less like connecting with friends and more like being stuck in a never-ending sales pitch, an endless barrage of ads and 'recommended content' that no one wants or asks for. Even private messages are scanned by algorithms for lucrative marketing opportunities, and the user gets the sense we're simply grist for the money-making mill.

The early innocence has been replaced by a cynical addiction model designed to maximise 'engagement'. Features are added not to improve the user experience but to increase the time spent mindlessly scrolling. We are monitored and measured like lab rats pushing levers for another pellet of social validation.

It didn't have to be this way, as the original promise of social media was to connect people in new and meaningful ways. But monetisation became the prime directive somewhere along the line, eclipsing all other concerns, and the early idealism gave way to opportunism.

The platforms established a coded collusion with their users - we'll give you free services, and you give us your data and eyeballs. But it's become an abusive relationship, always demanding more of our time and attention, and the costs are starting to outweigh the benefits.

The spiritual progenitor of all this, Facebook, has seen a steady decline in daily and monthly users, particularly among the younger demographics. We are left with a general sense that we all have ruined social media.

The giant media companies are desperately trying to stem the tide. TikTok, the latest shiny new plaything, uses an insidiously effective algorithm to keep people endlessly scrolling. Our preferences are quickly established, and we're fed an endless drip-feed of tailored content. The machine learning behind it is undeniably impressive - and more than a little sinister.

But a backlash is brewing. A recent survey found that over half of people plan to reduce their social media usage over the next year. The media diet of endless algorithmically-served snackable content leaves us feeling unsatisfied. Once we turned to social media to feel connected, now it only seems to sow division. The promise of bringing people together has dissolved into an outrage machine driving people apart.

I can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the early days of social media. Back then, it felt uncharted, an online Wild West filled with promise and possibility. I naively posted family and personal content, eager to reconnect with lost acquaintances and users with shared interests. It's easy to forget now, but the first social media sites began life as something pure - a way to connect with friends and family. The idea was simple yet profound: technology could bring us closer, not drive us apart.

In those early days, it did feel special, revolutionary even. Logging on to see updates from your social circle was genuinely exciting. It satisfied a deep human need for community and kinship. Friendster, MySpace, Facebook - they tapped into the zeitgeist and took off like wildfire.

Almost imperceptibly, at first, the nature of social media began to change. More ads appeared in the feeds, sponsored content blurred the lines, and darker impulses were exploited by algorithms designed to maximise 'engagement'. And then there was the now ubiquitous troll, befriended, turned enemy, waiting in the digital long grass with some devastatingly sly comment. Once burned, you purge your friend's list of unknowns with a steely vengeance.

The once-innocent Facebook pioneered microtargeting, slicing and dicing user data to allow advertisers unprecedented accuracy. You were no longer a user - you were a valuable bundle of demographics, intents, and behaviours to be harvested for profit. Social media had become a playground for bad actors who weaponised disinformation and propaganda, using advanced psychographic techniques to influence and radicalise people.

Tech companies pleaded ignorance but had long looked the other way regarding anything that increased engagement. Outrage and extremism were good for business.

We users share the blame, too, as we flocked to these services, readily providing personal data and devoting more and more of our free time to scrolling feeds. We enjoyed the dopamine hits of likes and validation. Social media companies may have cynically exploited human weaknesses but didn't create them.

Regardless of who's ultimately culpable, the net result is that social media has become a toxic swamp of disinformation, tribalism and opportunistic trolls. A space that once brought people together now drives them apart. Its negative impact on mental health, especially for teenagers, is increasingly apparent. The promise of meaningful connection has morphed into an endless content feed designed to hijack our frayed attention.

But it doesn't have to be this way. There are signs we've reached peak social media disillusionment and are ready for something better. Smaller startups are emerging, focusing on healthy engagement and more thoughtful connections.

Apps like BeReal are exploring new models that value and encourage authenticity over airbrushed perfection. Creative platforms like Substack allow content creators to connect directly with their audience and reap the financial rewards without subterfuge. Messaging apps emphasise and protect private chats with close contacts rather than indiscriminate public broadcasting.

These shoots of renewal recognise that social media has strayed far from its original purpose. But recapturing that spirit requires courage - putting user welfare above profit and growth. Venture capital brings pressures, and funding inevitably comes with expectations of exponential growth and inflated valuations. This model fosters a mindset of "growth at all costs", often at the unethical exploitation of user privacy and experience.

A solution lies in alternative investment models - crowdfunding, non-profits, and co-operatives. Exploring ways of funding technology that provides value to society without demanding maximum financial extraction, a more balanced but, alas, utopian form of capitalism.

The soul of social media is still in there, buried under layers of self-interest and manipulation. It's fitting that the original guiding light, Facebook, is now mired in an existential crisis, deserted by younger users and facing regulation. The wheel has turned full circle, where trust and goodwill once prevailed, now cynicism and disillusionment reign. The age of social media innocence is long past.