I remember the first time I heard the word “Facebook.” I don’t quite remember how old I was, probably six or seven, but I remember my siblings talking about posting to their “walls” and “friending” people. At the time, I wasn’t interested in their conversation about this internet thing called Facebook. It honestly sounded weird and boring (which is still an oddly accurate description).
Fast forward only a few years, and I signed up for Facebook. I was fourteen when I got on, and that was in 2013. For better and for worse, Facebook changed my life.
It didn’t take me long to realize that people read what I posted, and some people liked what I had to say. In a sense, Facebook helped mold me into the writer I am today. As an opinionated nerd who’s also an introvert, I discovered that Facebook was the perfect place to say what was on my mind while also not having to get up in front of people to say it. Every blue thumb, every comment, every notification gave me a sense of fulfillment. I could do something that people paid attention to. At first, that fulfillment was good because it gave me motivation to keep writing, but soon it would leave me conceited and empty.
When people disagreed with my post, I would look forward to debating them in the comment section, and not for good reasons. I wanted to be seen as right and wanted my opponent to admit he was wrong. On Facebook, I wasn’t debating another person so both of us could learn and grow. Instead, I was debating words on a screen so I could feel vindicated. It became all too easy for me to dehumanize others with my words on social media.
If a post I put thought and effort into writing got a lot of likes and even a couple of shares, my emotions would automatically improve. But if a post I thought was important only got a few likes, I immediately questioned why my friends wouldn’t show me more approval.
I know I’m not the only one to have this experience with social media. Study after study shows how social media hooks us onto the drug of approval. We constantly go back to our apps, whether it be Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram, to see if anyone else has liked our post or commented on our photo. Whether or not we’ve been approved of by our friends and followers determines our happiness and motivation. This is the ugliness of social media. When our joy in the physical world is determined by our performance online, we have officially been dehumanized.
The internet was designed for humans to use to enrich their lives, and that’s when the internet works best—when we are its master. But today, the internet uses humans to enrich the lives of other humans, and that’s when the internet becomes a monster—when we are its subject.
The clearest example of the internet’s dehumanizing oppression is pornography—a multi-billion-dollar industry that exploits one group of people (mostly women and underage girls) by addicting a second group of people (mostly men and underage boys) to the exploitation of the first group of people. While pornography existed before the internet, the internet turned pornography into the giant it is today.
Along with porn sites, we should add Instagram, TikTok, and Snapchat to an endless list of examples of how the internet and social media are dehumanizing women and girls. These social media sites are hotbeds for sexualization. Many of the most followed pages on TikTok and Instagram get their followings from sex. Vast forms of soft-core porn are prevalent on these social media sites, and they’re prevalent because they’re successful. Women and girls show off their bodies in photos and videos because that’s what gets them millions of views. And for this overt over-sexualization, social media rewards them with a paycheck.
What example does this set for young girls when the most followed women on social media are the women wearing the least amount of clothing? What does this tell young boys when the accounts popping up in their faces are pictures of women in bikinis asking if they want to see more? It tells them that sex is the highest joy they can attain. It tells them that sex is their identity. The internet is objectifying our bodies for sexual pleasure—it’s dehumanizing us in real-time.
What do our thirst for attention, our arguments, and our objectification leave us with? Emptiness and depression. As with anything in this created universe, when we use social media for something more than it was intended it disappoints and hurts us. The internet is an amazing tool when used responsibly for God’s glory, but it’s an awful weapon when used recklessly for our approval.
I don’t believe the world would be better off without the internet. I don’t want to move back to a time before Google and Twitter. The internet and social media have made our lives so much better, and they’ve given us even more opportunities to spread the gospel. So, as Christians, let’s use the internet as it was meant to be used—a tool for God’s glory, not a master for man’s destruction.