Blocking Is Bad For Democracy
The block function on social media platforms is a necessary evil. The culture of trolling, personalised hate, and vulgar threats to life necessitate the function’s existence. It would be naive of me- or anyone else- to argue that blocking is not an essential function for contemporary online platforms. However, the current application of blocking is problematic for our democratic values, culture, and practices.
For those of you fortunate enough to have never had to block someone, blocking is a function that allows you to remove someone’s content from your social media feed. It prevents them- or you for that matter- from engaging in any form of interaction with one another. It is something like an immediately enforced, all-encompassing, online restraining order; without conventional due process of course.
As I see it, the issue is that there has been a detrimental transformation in how and why users use the blocking function on social media platforms. Beyond its intended function: ensuring personal safety, blocking has become a mechanism for snubbing alternative political opinions. It is the modern-day burying your head in the sand; continuing to live as if there are not deep-rooted political disagreements within the public.
Like many other aspects of the digital world, the blocking function provides an easy means of pandering to our biases, instead of the encouraging the arduous interrogation of our beliefs.
Blocking has become childish on both sides of the political spectrum: you dislike someone’s political opinion? Well, block them. You dislike someone’s critique of your opinion? Well, block them. You disagree with someone’s concerns or interests? Well, you guessed it, block them.
It occurred to me that this online behaviour has negative implications for our offline political lives; especially regarding the functioning of the U.K.’s liberal democracy.
First and foremost, blocking creates a false reality for users. Blocking someone with an alternative point of view does not eradicate that opinion from existing. That is one of the many mirages of the the digital world, and we would all do well to remember that platforms like Twitter and Facebook do not accurately reflect the offline public’s political mood or views (Mellon and Prosser, 2017).
We cultivate and customise these spaces in a manner that all too often reflect our own beliefs, and we then mistake these spaces for windows into public opinion. Contrastingly, they are more likely mirrors: reflecting our own opinions, ideas, and biases back to us. It is no surprise, nor coincidence that the term ‘echo-chamber’ is now commonplace in the public vocabulary.
This false sense of reality- which is a product of the following and blocking mechanisms- does little more than convince those at the extremes of the political spectrum that their views are more widely held then they actually are. The result of the Brexit referendum, Trump’s election in 2016, as well as his failure to be re-elected in 2020, are damning reminders of this fact.
To make matters worse, the misuse of the blocking feature intensifies political polarisation. Blocking creates a safe-space where extreme caricatures of political arguments become commonplace and far more accepted than they should be, or would be offline.
By blocking alternative political opinions, ideologies are left to fester, and arguments on the same side of the spectrum effectively attempt to outdo each other by moving to more extreme variations. This is visible on either side of the political spectrum: from denying fundamental human rights for LGBTQ+ and other minority groups on the right to threats of murder and cannibalism of the rich on the left.
Generally, this form of extreme polarisation is challenging for democracy. Like negotiations, democracies function best when everyone is somewhat unhappy with the outcome: it demonstrates that beneficial concessions have been in the majority’s interest.
However, blocking excludes this possibility of forming a consensus at the centre of competing political ideas. It also prevents competing ideas from testing themselves and battling for supremacy. No matter how you conceptualise democracy- deliberative or antagonising- this aspect of blocking is inherently pernicious for democratic processes.
In the act of blocking, users on both sides are entirely (though unfoundedly) convinced of their own ideational superiority. The blocker, certain in their conviction, believes their opinion is above critique or questioning. From their perspective, they have already considered alternative options and believe their conclusion to be faultless. This is clearly a fruitless, if not conceited, approach towards any political discussion.
The user who is blocked is also reaffirmed of their critique’s strength: it must be so damning that the only logical response is to ignore the critique altogether. People rarely enjoy being proved wrong, and the misuse of blocking prevents ideas from being adequately tested or examined.
In short, the current use of blocking leads to vainglorious, weak, and often unsubstantiated political opinions and arguments. You do not need to be a political theorist to see why and how this is deleterious for public opinion and subsequently our democracy.
Political opinions are never infallible. Politics is a continuous game of balancing costs and benefits: there is no silver bullet. If there was, we would be living in utopia, and there would be no need for politics; nor this article.
Yet, to the disservice of our democracy, blocking continues to proliferate these sort claims of absolute rightness from both the user blocking and the person blocked. In the process, undermining the most crucial factors of properly functioning democracies; equality amongst conflicting perspectives, proper debate and valid critique.
So what can we do to do we change this?
In recent time, I have made an active effort to not only follow but engage with those opinions I disagree with on social media. With the risk of sounding pretentious, I consider this to be something of a digital civic duty for myself as well as all democratic citizens. This has, without question, been a problematic and challenging process. Sometimes I find myself acting emotively, unhelpfully, and embarrassingly arrogant. After all, we are all human and recognising our faults, limits, and mistakes is an essential part of self-development and growth. As a whole, it has proved to be a constructive endeavour.
Of course, this is not true in all cases, and I particularly sympathise with those who have to continually justify their right to exist on social media and beyond. To be clear, any political disagreement should not descend into the inhumane questioning of any person’s right to exist. Nor should someone espouse views which seek to subjugate others to harm or secondary forms of citizenship. These are not political disagreements, nor should they infiltrate our discussions under this guise.
That aside, concerning online conversations, we should attempt to discuss politely and genuinely, respecting our differences as usually valid, if not well-founded. We shall find- as I have- that the users we disagree with provide incredibly illuminating insights: from gaps in our arguments to unconsidered factors informing theirs. Significantly, at the end of these discussions, we usually find some common ground, an agreeable basis from which we can all hope to build upon. If we could work towards this end, I believe our political discussions and public discourse will be significantly enhanced.
In Chantal Mouffe’s words: “the task of democracy is to transform antagonism into agonism” (2005: 20). Our democratic duty is to transform our political enemies into adversaries: opponents who share a common space, with whom we disagree- but respectfully so. These values should be practised online, as they are offline.
The next time you find someone you disagree with on social media, try to engage that person, try to listen and understand them before letting your thumbs fire off a half-baked condemnation of them or their position. Focus less on undermining their view and try first to understand it.
Above all else, resist blocking those you disagree with. Instead, take the time to develop a well-mannered and measured response that adequately represents your position and your valid disagreement.
I hope that in the future this approach leads to better public discourse and strengthens our democratic values, instead of our current situation, which sees our democratic values, culture and practices undermined by our online behaviour and our tendency to block-out those with whom we disagree with. Democracy is a public good and the onus is upon each of us to do our part to protect it and strengthen it as we move into the digital age.
Feel free to disagree with me on Twitter @Ch4rlieon
