Beyond the Digital Echo Chamber: Reclaiming Critical Moral Reflection in a Cancel Culture World
Yesterday I received an alert from IG. It warned that my account was in trouble for breaking community rules. Some of my posts had been taken down. They didn’t specify which ones, but I knew. It was that image I shared from Gaza, captured by an independent photographer.
Honestly, I wasn’t surprised. Over the past few years, especially during the pandemic, the Ukrainian-Russian war, and now here, I’ve noticed a concerning pattern on social media — an ascent of cancel culture, a phenomenon that looms large and ominous. There’s a clear bias in what kind of content gets favored, and it’s not in favor of diverse perspectives. People who speak out or disagree with the mainstream narrative often face punishments like being banned, suspended, or having their posts hidden. It’s a troubling bias that’s hard to miss if you don’t toe the line. Some of these individuals who are being “removed” were and are highly respected experts in their respective fields. Some are directly involved on the ground. However, because they dared to voice opinions that ran counter to the prevailing narrative, they were removed. Some eventually returned, but others did not.
I’ve had the privilege of living and working extensively in the Middle East, and I understand multiple languages. I have family from Russia, and Ukraine, as well as Israel, and friends that can be called family from the Middle East as well as the rest of the world. This unique perspective has allowed me to follow narratives from various corners of the world. In the past years, I’ve observed groups vanishing on Telegram, conversations being deleted on Signal, and similar occurrences on other popular platforms. I’ve also witnessed government-sponsored ad placements in various languages. I’ve seen videos appearing on social media platforms being labeled as “misinformation” and then deleted — while others that clearly favor a specific opinion remain there.
I didn’t think much about it before because I’ve mostly shared non-political things. However, that Instagram alert hit me hard. It made me realize how much I’ve come to rely on my online identity and how much power I’ve handed over to these various platforms. I’ve used IG and FB to publish my own writings, but if my profiles were wiped out tomorrow, I’d lose all that content. I’d also lose touch with the many people I’ve connected with over the years.
During my university years, I delved into the captivating realms of sensemaking and sense-giving, particularly in the context of leadership and management. These theories, crafted by Karl E. Weick, delve into the intricate process of how individuals and organizations forge understanding and significance from their experiences and the world that envelops them. In the modern digital epoch, where a deluge of information and interactions transpire online, these concepts grant us insights into how people navigate, interpret, and imprint their digital landscapes.
It’s paramount to grasp that in this digital age, while our digital reality may bear resemblance to aspects of our existence, it remains but a reflection — a mere shard, not the entirety of the truest essence of our lived encounters or the world that encircles us. Social Media Filter Bubbles and Echo Chambers are a reality. We engage with people who share similar views. This self-selection creates echo chambers where individuals reinforce their existing beliefs. Add in algorithms and your social media echo chambers expand exponentially. Deepfakes have become an undeniable facet of our digital landscape. These synthetic media creations wield the power to profoundly influence the very process of sensemaking, casting a shadow of confusion and mistrust upon our digital experience. It’s a layer of complexity that now permeates our interactions within the digital realm.
I recall a chapter from my time in Dubai back in 2015. During a project I was engaged in, a severe rift emerged between the two partnering entities. In the project’s final output, a striking transformation unfolded — technology enabled the complete digital erasure of one of the partners from all digital material. He simply wasn’t there. This was in 2015 — how do you think technology has progressed since then?
In a realm where digital reality often eludes our grasp, and as our digital existence intertwines more closely with our tangible human experience, the imperative to tread consciously becomes increasingly evident. We find ourselves navigating this complex digital expanse, pondering fundamental questions: How do we engage within this digital domain? To whom do we entrust our content and digital identities?
In the shadowed depths of our digital existence, you might contemplate, ‘This does not concern me. I stand as an adversary of Putin, a champion of vaccines, an opponent of terrorists, a proud supporter of climate change and democracy.’ A certainty pervades that you are the beacon of righteousness, while others dwell in bewildering ignorance of reality. They appear deserving of expulsion, unworthy of a voice. Some even dare to suggest that those with other voices are like aggressive “cancer”. But can you, indeed, claim that right? Do you truly possess unadulterated knowledge? You see, the truth rarely incites spectacle. Yet, human tales and narratives, spiral away from the authentic, especially in a world where truth is entangled in digital fabrication and algorithmic curation. How much of this ‘truth’ can you genuinely grasp?
And do we dare to envision a realm where there exists no room for perspectives beyond a singular facet?
I don’t. I stand firmly against endorsing cancel culture. I refuse to lend my support to those who deem someone as a malignancy, a “cancer”, rendering them voiceless or deeming an entire group as inherently evil. Or those that believe in “an eye for an eye”, or that retribution is a just or morally responsible response to wrongdoing.
The words of Hannah Arendt, the astute political philosopher, resonate strongly in this context, particularly during the trial of Adolf Eichmann, a pivotal figure in orchestrating the Holocaust.
Arendt’s insights are both haunting and enlightening. She contended that evil is not solely the domain of extraordinary, diabolical individuals; it can manifest in ordinary people who commit horrific deeds without engaging in critical moral reflection. She aptly coined this phenomenon as the “banality of evil.” Arendt posited that evil actions often arise when individuals relinquish their moral responsibility to authority figures or systems, thereby acting without scrutinizing the ethical implications of their deeds. According to her, evil emerges when people partake in or facilitate atrocities without facing the moral consequences of their actions. In essence, moral responsibility, according to Arendt, involves an individual’s active engagement in evaluating the rightness or wrongness of their actions, regardless of external pressures or societal norms.
While this perspective may clash with the currents of my digital existence, it resonates firmly with the human facet of my being — the realm beyond the digital, shaped by the diverse worlds I have traversed, the souls I have encountered, the languages I speak, and the myriad lives I have borne witness to. The landscape of my world is painted in shades far beyond mere black and white. I acknowledge the ever-present influence of potent political interests, ancestral trauma, and the enduring echoes of colonialism. Moreover, I recognize the limited control I actually wield over my digital footprint and the substantial effort required to deconstruct the layers of my digital reality.
It is a lot of work. But it is my moral responsibility to undertake this work.
I gaze into my newsfeed, a pristine sanctuary bereft of provocative discourse. It brims with happy babies, food, fresh vocations, and feline companions. Yet, this tranquil tableau, I’m well aware, paints but a distorted reflection of reality. Algorithmic hands have sculpted it with deliberate intent, proffering a selective sense, tailored exclusively for my reception, and to keep things comfortable. Some have been removed, and some have been muted.
Do you realize this too?
If you do, take a moment to think about your online identity, your privacy, and who really controls your digital footprint. Take a closer look at the platforms you frequent — who owns them, what are their political leanings, and whose perspectives do they champion? Who do you follow? Who do you know? Because it’s likely that the narrative they endorse will shape the world you see around you. It’s probable that your reality resides within a confined digital echo chamber.
I do not possess the definitive solutions for countering the threat of deepfakes and algorithms. I also cannot stop the current war. Nevertheless, I believe that a fundamental piece of the puzzle lies in cultivating a heightened awareness and the deliberate deconstruction of our realities. We need to understand how we make and give sense to the reality around us. We must rekindle our innate capacity for critical moral reflection and reclaim our humanity, capable of distinguishing narratives from truths.
In simple terms, it’s crucial that we take control of our individual moral responsibilities instead of surrendering them to authority figures or systems. We need to own our digital echo chambers and be accountable for our beliefs and our perception of the world. We need to be willing to examine our own beliefs and perspectives. It’s time to engage in critical thinking and break free from mindless conformity.
The shadows of AI loom, and the price of our collective slumber will be steep.
