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Social media is reshaping how we judge people and see ourselves
Few inventions have given ordinary people such power. That power has produced enormous good. When disasters strike, social media can become an emergency network within minutes. During the devastating earthquakes in Türkiye and Syria in February 2023, people trapped under damaged buildings used social platforms to share locations and ask for help. Volunteers used online networks to organise food, shelter and other support. Families searched for missing relatives through posts that travelled far beyond their communities.
In such moments, a phone is not simply a source of entertainment. It can become a lifeline. Social media has also changed the meaning of opportunity. In the past, a small business often needed money for newspaper advertisements, television commercials or a shop in a busy market. Today, a young designer can display clothes online; a home baker can find customers through photographs; a farmer can show produce directly to buyers; a teacher can offer lessons to students living hundreds of miles away.
A good idea no longer needs a large office before it can find an audience. Education has benefited as well. Students can follow scientists, historians, language teachers and universities from around the world. Someone struggling with a mathematics problem can watch an explanation until it makes sense. A person who cannot afford an expensive course can find valuable lessons free of charge.
Social media has also allowed important social issues to receive attention that they might once have been denied. Videos recorded by ordinary citizens can expose injustice. People affected by disasters can tell their stories instead of waiting for someone else to tell them. Charity campaigns can reach thousands of donors in a matter of hours.
But every powerful tool carries risk. The system that can relay an important warning in seconds can spread a dangerous lie just as quickly. This is one of the greatest problems of the digital age: misinformation. A false story does not need a printing press, a television station or a newsroom. It needs only one convincing post and enough people willing to share it.
The Covid-19 pandemic provided a painful example. Alongside useful public health information, social media carried false cures, conspiracy theories and misleading medical claims. The World Health Organisation described the flood of information surrounding the pandemic as an “infodemic.” The problem was not simply that people lacked information. They were surrounded by so much ‘information’ that separating fact from fiction became difficult.
This problem has become more serious because photographs, audio posts and videos can now be altered or created with remarkable effect. A person may appear to say words that were never spoken. An old video can be presented as if the event happened yesterday. A photograph from one country can be shared as evidence of an event in another. The old saying “seeing is believing” is becoming dangerous. Today, seeing should be the beginning of a question: Is this real? That question matters because false information has consequences beyond the screen: a fake health claim can put someone’s life at risk; a false accusation can destroy a reputation; a fabricated political story can cause public anger; a rumour about a community can create fear and violence.
The person who presses “share,” therefore, carries more responsibility than many people realise. Before forwarding a shocking story, we should ask the basic questions: Who published it? Is a trusted news organisation reporting it? Is the photograph recent? Does the headline match the story? Could the account be trying to make people angry simply to gain attention? Ten seconds of checking can sometimes prevent a lie from reaching hundreds of people.
Another serious problem is cyberbullying. Bullying existed long before smartphones, but technology has changed its reach. In the past, a child bullied at school could often return home and escape the bully for a few hours. Today, cruel words can follow a child into their bedroom; a hurtful comment can be posted at midnight; an embarrassing photograph can be shared with hundreds of classmates; a private message can be copied and made public; rumors can spread while the victim is asleep.
People sometimes say things online that they will never say face to face. A screen creates distance that can can make cruelty feel easier. But the person receiving the message is real. Behind every profile picture there is a human being with feelings, fears, family and dignity. A joke that takes five seconds to type can remain in someone’s memory for years.
Schools cannot treat cyberbullying as something that happens “outside school” simply because it takes place online. Parents cannot dismiss it as harmless teenage behaviour. Technology companies cannot ignore abuse merely because millions of messages are posted every hour.
Young people need to know where they can seek help. Adults need to take them seriously when they do.
There is another change taking place quietly: social media is reshaping how we judge people and see ourselves.
Open almost any popular platform and you see beautiful homes, successful careers, expensive meals, perfect bodies and wonderful holidays. After looking at such images for an hour, an ordinary life can begin to feel strangely unsuccessful.
But social media is usually a stage, not the whole house. People show the birthday celebration, not the argument that happened afterward. They show the promotion, not the five rejected job applications before it. They show the holiday photograph, not the financial pressure waiting at home.
We err in comparing our entire lives with other people’s highlights. This is especially dangerous for young people who are still developing confidence and identity. The number beside a photograph should never become a measure of personal worth. A teenager with 50 likes is not less valuable than one with 5,000.
Adults are not free from this pressure either. Many professionals compare careers. Many parents compare children. Many families compare lifestyles. Most businesses compare followers. Many political leaders watch online reactions. Slowly, approval from strangers can begin to matter more than satisfaction with real life.
There is also the question of time. A person opens a platform to check one message and looks up forty minutes later. This is not always by chance. Many digital platforms are built to hold attention. There is always another video, another notification and another story waiting below the last one.
Time, however, is in limited supply. An hour spent scrolling is an hour that cannot be spent sleeping, exercising, studying, talking to a child, visiting a parent or sitting with a friend.
This does not mean that social media should be rejected. That would ignore the enormous good it has brought. The real answer is digital responsibility.
Digital responsibility means understanding that freedom online comes with duty. It means checking information before sharing it. It means disagreeing without insulting. It means asking permission before posting another person’s photograph. It means protecting private information. It means refusing to join online humiliation simply because everyone else is doing it.
It also means knowing when to put the phone down. Parents have a special responsibility, but lectures alone will not work. A father cannot complain that his daughter is always on her phone while answering messages throughout dinner. A mother cannot demand screen-free family time while checking notifications every few minutes.
Children copy habits more easily than rules. Schools should teach digital citizenship as seriously as they teach traditional subjects. Knowing how to use technology is no longer enough. Students must know how to question it.
They should learn how to identify reliable sources, understand manipulated content, protect passwords, respond to cyberbullying and recognise when online activity is harming real life.
Technology companies also carry responsibility. They have built platforms capable of influencing the attention and behaviour of billions of people. Protecting children, fighting fraud, limiting abuse and making harmful content easier to report should not be treated as optional acts of kindness. They are part of the responsibility that comes with such enormous influence.
Governments, too, face a difficult task. They must protect citizens from fraud, abuse and harmful illegal content while also protecting freedom of expression. Too little action can leave people exposed. Too much control can threaten open debate. Finding balance will be one of the great public challenges of the coming years. But laws and companies cannot make every decision for us. The most important choices still happen in ‘ordinary’ moments. Do we forward the rumor or check it first? Do we laugh at the cruel comment or defend the person being attacked? Do we photograph every family moment for strangers or sometimes simply live it? Do we allow an online argument to ruin an evening with people we love? Social media has given humanity something previous generations could hardly imagine: the ability to speak across borders instantly and at almost no cost. That is an extraordinary achievement.
But being able to speak to the whole world does not automatically teach us what is worth saying. That lesson must come from us. The future of social media will not be decided only in the offices of technology companies or the halls of government. It will also be decided in classrooms, homes, workplaces and in the hands of ordinary users.
We do not need a world without social media. We need a society wise enough to use it without being used by it. A screen can inform us, but it should not do our thinking for us. It can connect us, but it should not replace the people sitting beside us. It can give us a voice, but that voice should carry truth, respect and responsibility.
Perhaps the most important rule for the digital age is also the simplest: before we click, comment or share, we should remember that what happens on a screen can have consequences in the real world. Technology may be digital; the society is still human.
The writer is a chartered accountant and a business analyst.
