A Farewell to Twitter
Requiem for a Hellscape
Twitter isn’t going anywhere. $44 billion corporations don’t just blink out of existence; even if Twitter is in its death spiral, it will live on for years and years as some version of itself. But it certainly seems as if Twitter is dead, at least in the form we have known it over its short but fascinating life. A new billionaire tech bro owner laid off half the staff, and another quarter or so seem to have quit. He’s reinstating the accounts of racists and hatemongers at an alarming rate, including the account of the Racist Hatemonger In Chief (you know the one), and people are flocking to alternative social media networks—not that there really are any alternatives.
Therein lies the glory and the despair of Twitter and the moment in which it finds itself. There is nothing quite like Twitter; it’s irreplaceable as a one-stop place for discourse, breaking news, and earnest threads on virtually every topic you could imagine. But maybe because of that, there’s nothing quite like Twitter for toxicity, performative self-righteousness, and nonsense. And that was before the latest ownership change.
I have mostly been off Twitter for over a year now. I quit—but did not delete my account—after the most recent round of bullying by a colleague who makes a show of that kind of thing on Twitter. This person has a pretty high profile in the field, and seems to be admired by a lot of folks. I have even been an admirer in the past myself. The first time they publicly bullied me for something I wrote, I chalked it up to constructive criticism and moved on. The second time I started to get angry, and I noticed that they were doing it to some other people too, using language dripping with moral judgement to make their points. The third time, I had had enough. I figured that this person simply didn’t like me, and they thought they could gain clout by coming after me. I fired back, but ultimately I don’t have the disposition for nasty back-and-forth battles on the internet. After that dust-up, I decided that Twitter—where someone can get attacked while lots of erstwhile friends just look on silently—wasn’t for me. Some people, including the person coming after me, thrive on that energy. I don’t.
That’s really unfortunate, because at its best, Twitter has been the best scholarly community I’ve had. It’s truly a remarkable space. I follow hundreds of scholars there. Many are, like me, students of the bible, religion, and religious communities and history. But others study literature, politics, race and ethnicity, gender and sexuality, and all sorts of other stuff I love to learn about. Twitter can be a truly life-giving source of affirmation and encouragement; one of my favorite things to do is to simply scroll my timeline “liking” people’s announcements about publishing books and articles, getting tenure, and having epiphanies about their research. I have learned a lot about teaching, found new research tools, and met colleagues I never would have known. And during big professional events like conferences and meetings, nothing beats Twitter as a virtual hangout spot where we can trade plans and accolades and live-tweet someone’s blockbuster presentation. Even when it’s full of Very Serious Threads solemnly reminding everyone of things they already know, it can be wonderful.
Alas, all that seems to be gone. Many experts are predicting that some technical glitch will cause a cascading failure on Twitter sometime soon, given the skeleton crew they’re working with. Even if that doesn’t happen, the unleashing of trolls and reinstatement of hateful politicians mean that most decent people are already making other plans. The whole thing has the vibe of an everything-must-go, store-closing sale. It’s chaotic, thrilling in a voyeuristic way, and filled with ennui.
I hope something comes along to fill the space being left by Twitter, even if it’s just Twitter itself, sold a few times and transformed into something new, redeemed of its horrors. I hope some kind of healthy online community and conversation space is possible. Right now, Twitter ain’t it. And it hasn’t been for some time now.