I got my first phone when I was just 11 years old. Before I got this phone, I had an iPod. Before that, an Xbox.
I had a lot of good memories on these devices as I listened to pop music on my iPod Touch through a pair of cheap headphones that had the face of an adorable dog on the earcups, played Call of Duty with my friends and got called obscenities that I had no idea existed and eventually, was able to access the internet anywhere I wanted to when I finally got my first iPhone.
It is not a stretch to say that I am through and through a child of the internet.
I am not going to sit here and spout the same regurgitated slop about the dangers of the internet that we have all heard from older generations, so before anyone thinks that this is another “it’s all because of that damn phone” stink piece about why Instagram is dangerous, it is not. I am, however, going to have to take some of the warnings we have received into consideration.
I never really even put any thought into the dangers of the internet when I was in my early teenage years as I thought that it was awesome to be able to see whatever and whoever, whenever I pleased.
At any point, I could find a new television show to watch or find live performances from my favorite musicians and even discover new artists by just searching for them. Well, I didn’t actually search for them; they almost always found me, which was even better. New, fresh content and pieces of media were like homing missiles into my developing brain.
In many ways, I am proud of who I have become because of some of the content and ideas I was introduced to by the all mighty algorithm as they have made me the person I am today. In other ways, I am deeply unsettled and, quite frankly, at my breaking point with what social media has become.
This predatory, seemingly sentient digitized stalker that we call an algorithm has become the primary source of news, fashion, ideas and other features that make us unique, and I don’t think I like the way we allow this system to infect us.
This past Wednesday, Sept. 10, I opened my Instagram app while sitting in class (apologies to my professor) and expected to see the usual posts ranging from memes to new movie releases.
What I was met with instead made me set my phone down and bring my open palm to my mouth in utter shock. I was greeted by high quality, rather close, video footage of political activist Charlie Kirk getting shot in the neck while holding an event on a college campus.
This was at roughly 3:20 p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon. What happened? How did we get here?
Before I even made it out of class, every group chat I was in, every news network and influencer I could name were posting and talking about the shooting.
Even though I did not love Charlie Kirk as I strongly disagreed with much of what he had to say, if not all, does that mean that I wanted to see his assassination on the same platform I go to for cute, innocent videos of cats for a quick boost of dopamine? No!
Since the shooting, every social media platform I have opened has force fed me content related to the shooting: the suspected shooter as well as the opinions people have from every possible angle of the incident.
Not only am I disgusted with everything I have been subjected to in the past week, I find it extremely fascinating that this type of content has become routine for us as humans. A human was shot and killed. Children are shot and killed for simply going to school. Violence is everywhere.
This algorithm cannot produce this content that we see, only serve it to us on a silver platter, and it knows exactly what we want. The content itself is up to human beings. There would be no footage of mass shootings to circulate on social media if there was no individual abusing their second amendment to harm others to begin with.
As we have become so fascinatingly intertwined with our technology, the algorithms that feed us content have learned what we like and have created a system to ensure we are always subjected to something we have never seen before on a daily basis.
I am taking a break from social media, but unfortunately, I cannot take a break from humans.
I miss when social media was fun. I miss the times before the looming fear that at any moment, a disturbing piece of a future generation’s history would be shoved down the throats of everyone that has an internet connection.
Maybe this is not a new phenomenon, and I just miss being young and oblivious to the ongoing threat that is the wrongful doings of humans. I miss my iPod Touch and restricted internet access.
Caden Adkins can be contacted at [email protected]
