Elon Musk makes you an offer you can refuse
Mr. Musk is flirting with a complete betrayal of the social media social contract. The most valuable commodity in the online economy is, and always has been, you. Your eyeballs, your time, your interest, your profile, your posts — social-media sites offer advertisers access to all of it. Anyone hawking razors or newsletter subscriptions can pay to reach you. In the first six months of 2022, Twitter had $2.2 billion in ad sales.
Selling access to users has been social media’s business model since it’s had a business model. When Mark Zuckerberg launched Facebook in 2004, membership was limited to Harvard students, then to enrolled students at other colleges. In September 2006, Facebook began offering free membership to anyone over 13.
Facebook was an ad-free paradise for about a year. For that brief, shining moment you could share pictures of your children and reconnect with old school friends without anyone trying to sell you a gym membership. But in November 2007 Mr. Zuckerberg figured out how he was going to make money and introduced Facebook Ads, allowing “businesses to connect with users and target advertising to the exact audiences they want.”
The smart people got off Facebook then and there. The rest of us rushed to sign up for Twitter, YouTube, LinkedIn, Instagram, TikTok, Snapchat, and all the rest. We couldn’t wait to give away access to our inmost thoughts. Along with our name, age, eye colour and relationship status they could have a dossier on our habits, hobbies, curiosities and interests.
All we asked in exchange was a steady stream of dopamine hits. Likes, views, shares, retweets or snapstreaks — it didn’t matter so long as they kept coming.
On some level we all knew that this was a deal with the devil. Somewhere down the line, our inner voices insisted, we’d end up regretting giving away so much of our private selves to Silicon Valley and Madison Avenue for nothing much in return. Most of us knew we were getting ripped off, but we couldn’t help it. We were in too deep. The validation of strangers on the internet felt so good that we took the deal. Over and over we took the deal.
The one saving grace was the out-of-pocket cost. Zero seemed reasonable, a price most of us were willing to pay for the strange joys of insomniac scrolling and subtweeting our enemies, real or imagined. We talked ourselves into believing that we could walk away from the grand bargain anytime we wanted, that we could cancel our accounts and slide back into a regular, well-adjusted life without social media.
Journalists like me talked ourselves into believing that we had to be on Twitter for work. But that never made sense either. You’re supposed to get paid for work. You don’t pay your employer for the pleasure of having a job.
And it makes no sense to pay for the privilege of being Twitter’s product. This is an opportunity to be one of the smart ones. Make yourself less dependent on social media. Quit altogether if possible. You won’t have any trouble finding razors and newsletters. And now think what you can do with all the money you’ll save.
Wall St Journal
More Coverage
Trump says he will shorten deadline to end Ukraine war
Donald Trump said he would give Russian President Vladimir Putin 10 or 12 days to reach a cease-fire with Ukraine or face more economic pressure from the US.
You’re cordially invited to our dry wedding. Hope you have fun
An open bar was once the sign of a great party. But in an age of loud-and-proud sobriety, alcohol is no longer a must-have for wedding receptions | Do you say ‘I do’ to dry nuptials? Cast your vote
Elon Musk wants to start selling subscriptions for full access to Twitter. As the Journal noted on Wednesday, his goal is to make his recently acquired property “less dependent on digital ads.” That’s a long way from “ad free,” which is what Twitter users conditioned to paying nothing might reasonably expect for $8 a month.