Allow me to set the scene: you have been seated with a group of your friends at a restaurant, catching up in a lively discussion, when a member of the waitstaff shows up. They take everyone’s orders, then the discussion resumes — but they return a short while later to ask if you heard about the specials. You had and, anyway, you have already ordered what you want, so the waiter leaves. You chat amongst yourselves again.
But then they appear again. Might they suggest some drinks? How about a side? Every couple of minutes, they reliably return, breaking your discussion to sell you on something else.
Would you like to see the menu again? Here, try this new thing. Here, try this classic thing we brought back. Here is a different chair. How about we swap the candles on the table for a disco ball? Would you like to hear the specials again? Have you visited our other locations?
It is weird because you had been to this restaurant a few times before and the service was attentive, but not a nuisance. Now that you think of it, though, the waitstaff became increasingly desperate after your first visit. Those first interruptions were fine because they were expected — even desired. But there is a balance. You are coming to this restaurant because the food and the drinks are good, sure, but you are there with friends to catch up.
Now, pressured by management, the waiters have become a constant irritant instead of helpful, and there is nothing you can do. You can ask them to leave you alone, but they only promise a slightly longer gap. There is no way to have a moment to yourselves. Do you get up and leave? Do you come back? I would not. In actual experience, there are restaurants I avoid because the service is just too needy.
Also, apps.
When I open any of the official clients for the most popular social media platforms — Instagram, Threads, X, or YouTube — I am thrust into an environment where I am no longer encouraged to have a good time on my own terms. From home feeds containing a blend of posts from accounts I follow and those I do not, to all manner of elements encouraging me to explore other stuff — the platform is never satisfied with my engagement. I have not even factored in ads; this is solely about my time commitment. These platforms expect more of it.
These are decisions made by people who, it would seem, have little trust in users. There is rarely an off switch for any of these features — at best, there is most often only a way to temporarily hide them.
These choices illustrate the sharply divergent goals of these platforms and my own wishes. I would like to check out the latest posts from the accounts I follow, maybe browse around a bit, and then get out. That is a complete experience for me. Not so for these platforms.
Which makes it all the more interesting when platforms try new things they think will be compelling, like this announcement from Meta:
We’re expanding Meta AI’s Imagine features, so you can now imagine yourself as a superhero or anything else right in feed, Stories and your Facebook profile pictures. You can then easily share your AI-generated images so your friends can see, react to or mimic them. Meta AI can also suggest captions for your Stories on Facebook and Instagram.
[…]
And we’re testing new Meta AI-generated content in your Facebook and Instagram feeds, so you may see images from Meta AI created just for you (based on your interests or current trends). You can tap a suggested prompt to take that content in a new direction or swipe to Imagine new content in real time.
Perhaps this is appealing to you, but I find this revolting. Meta’s superficially appealing generated images have no place in my Instagram feed; they do not reflect how I actually want to use Instagram at all.
Decisions like these have infected the biggest platforms in various ways, which explains why I cannot stand to use most of them any longer. The one notable asterisk is YouTube which, as of last year, allows you to hide suggested videos on the homepage, which also turns off Shorts’ infinite scrolling. However, every video page still contains suggestions for what you should watch next. Each additional minute of your time is never enough for any of these platforms; they always want the minute after that, too.
You really notice the difference in respect when you compare these platforms against smaller, less established competitors. When I open Bluesky or my current favourite Mastodon client, it feels similar to the way social media did about ten years ago blended with an updated understanding of platform moderation. Glass is another tremendous product which lets me see exactly what I want, and discover more if I would like to — but there is no pressure.
The business models of these companies are obviously and notably very different from those of incumbent players. Bluesky and Mastodon are both built atop open protocols, so their future is kind of independent of whether the companies themselves exist. But, also, it is possible there will come a time when those protocols lack the funding to be updated, and are only used by not more than a handful of people each running their own instance. Glass, on the other hand, is just a regular boring business: users pay money for it.
Is the future of some of these smaller players going to mimic those which have come before? Must they ultimately disrespect their users? I hope that is not the roadmap for any of them. It should not be necessary to slowly increase the level of hostility between product and user. It should be possible to build a successful business by treating people with respect.
The biggest social platforms are fond of reminding us about how they facilitate connections and help us communicate around the world. They are a little bit like a digital third place. And, just as you would not hang out somewhere that was actively trying to sabotage your ability to chat with your friends in real life, it is hard to know why you would do so online, either. Happily, where Google and Meta and X exhaust me with their choices, there are a wealth of new ideas that bring back joy.