I'm not going to like your posts anymore

...and here's why (or: The Case for Not Clicking "Like")

Cal Newport, the author of Deep Work and many other books, lays out his idea of a life in a utopian digital age in Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World :

"Our current relationship with the technologies of our hyper-connected world is unsustainable and is leading us closer to the quiet desperation that Thoreau observed so many years ago...we require a philosophy that puts our aspirations and values once again in charge of our daily experience, all the while dethroning primal whims and the business models of Silicon Valley from their current dominance of this role; a philosophy that accepts new technologies, but not if the price is the dehumanization Andrew Sullivan warned us about; a philosophy that prioritizes long-term meaning over short-term satisfaction. A philosophy, in other words, like digital minimalism."

One of the strategies Newport proposes to combat social media addiction and develop a healthier relationship with our online social connections is his directive, "Don't click like". He admits that this suggestion is most likely to be met with resistance, but goes on to lay out what I think is a valid rationale. 

The "like" button was not originally part of Facebook's original design. Once it was added, however, it quickly became something that validated (or invalidated) the content we posted: how many 'likes' did we get? Who did/did not like our post? How often did we refresh the app or screen to see how many more likes we received? Not only does the 'like' feature (now a 'reactions' feature, as we can do other things besides 'like' a post or photo) add to the addictive, compulsive slot-machine quality of social media, it also deludes us into thinking that giving or receiving 'likes' is really connecting. Newport argues that it is not, and others agree:

"Clicking ‘like’ is the busy introvert’s dream...I click ‘like’ and tell myself that I’m connecting with my old friend. But I’m not. Bringing the number of likes on her post from 35 to 36 doesn’t connect me to her in any significant way. It just lets me think that I’ve connected with her."

(Anna Lannstrom, Ph.D)

The 'like' button exploits our dopamine triggers, social impulses, and anxieties. Here's the thing, though: Newport published his book in 2019: a time also known as, Pre-Covid. A time when we actually could gather together in person. At the time of this writing, we're in year 3 of the pandemic: many of us have gone back to business as usual, but many of us (due to immunocompromised status; or, in my case, an abundance of caution) have not. Many of our friends and family members have moved away, and many of our workplaces have become remote. Social media and the 'weak connections' it provides (as Newport points out) are, in many cases, all we've got.

That was my argument, anyway. Besides, why can't I like someone's "new job" post? "We're expecting" post? Why can't I enjoy the likes others click on my posts?

The more we engage in the "like" economy, the more we're inclined to check our social media. The more we "like", the less we need to really connect--like calling the friend who just had a baby, or sending flowers (or a meal) to someone who is sick or grieving. Newport reminds us that "connecting" by clicking a like or even leaving a short comment is not the same as "conversing"; it can never take the place of a real conversation.

I had to catch myself so many times when I almost liked Facebook updates. I saw the update; I processed the information, I felt whatever emotions (or lack of emotions) one feels when processing an update from a friend, relative, or person you barely remember from high school or who worked at an old job for maybe four months. Clicking "like" or some other reaction is the contemporary equivalent of a "read receipt". Why do I need to participate in that form of social currency? Why co-sign this collective madness? 

So I'm not gonna do it.

It's not that I don't care; I do, in fact, care, but clicking that button isn't going to do much for me except lure me into denial about showing support, and give you a false sense of engagement with the people in your social media ouvre (which, let's be honest, is probably much larger than your real-life ouvre).

If you're mad at me, let's talk about it (but not in the comments---that's where arguments start)