Why hanging out on Instagram is a lot like hanging out at the mall
Why hanging out on Instagram is a lot like hanging out at the mall
I think it’s fair to say that hanging out on Instagram has become a lot like hanging out at the mall. I haven’t truly “hung out” at the mall since I was a teenager, but I remember it like this… You cruise around with a few friends. Look at stuff you want but can’t afford. Eventually buy something you can basically afford. Cue the dopamine rush. Take a break and people-watch on that bench next to Wetzel’s Pretzels. Check out what your friends bought. Signal approval. More window shopping. Have a few solid laughs playing with shit at Brookstone. Catch a good movie (but let’s face it – probably a bad one). And if you’re lucky, spot a cutie at the food court and find a quiet place to chat.
There’s definitely an Instagram equivalent to all of these things. There’s also quite a bit more to Instagram than that so I don’t mean to totally diminish its existence. I just mean to say that, in both cases, consumerism serves as the framework for social interaction. The mall runs on our consumerism – as does Instagram, and any other platform that runs primarily on an advertising model. The more products they can show us, the more money they make. The more time we spend on social media, the more products they can show us.
It’s designed to make us want stuff.
This seems disturbingly easy for us to swallow, I think because so much of our modern life is bound to consumer awareness. It’s just like the time we spend drinking out of Coca Cola cups at Dodger games, or walking past billboard advertisements in New York, or watching cable TV! Capitalism reigns. Yes.
But social media is like capitalism on speed.
Instagram – the most visual social platform – is like the mall you pop into every single day. Ten times a day. It’s a place where brands sell you stuff, but friends and acquaintances and strangers sometimes do too. It’s the billboard you carry around in your pocket and cuddle with at night. Except it’s like fifty billboards. All precisely targeted to your online behavior, demographic, and location. Pair that with super fast load times, features like one-click purchase and autofill, and basically the internet wields a borderline evil ability to induce an impulse buy.
“It’s a place where brands sell you stuff, but friends and acquaintances and strangers sometimes do too. It’s the billboard you carry around in your pocket and cuddle with at night. Except it’s like fifty billboards. All precisely targeted to your online behavior, demographic, and location.”
In that way, social media isn’t really like anything we could compare it to in real, physical life, but I actually think it’s helpful to try. “Digital space” is still a new concept, and it’s disorienting. You can’t touch, taste, or smell anything on the internet. Time and space is totally warped. We even breathe differently when we’re there (i.e. worse). But until I’m officially hooked up to the Matrix I’d like to at least *try* to make sense of it in the ways I know how. I want to understand the characteristics and functions and feelings of digital space in the same way I understand the physical spaces I inhabit. Where am I? How many other people are here? Does it feel crowded? Or do I have tons of space? Is it loud here? Do I like loud places? If not, can I find a quiet corner that works for me? How does it make me feel? How is it *designed* to make me feel? Who benefits from me being here? Does this place make me feel joy? Does it make me feel uneasy? Distracted? Powerful? Grateful? Reactive? Does it make me feel empathetic? Do I feel like I *have* to be here? If so, is that actually true? After I leave this space do I take it with me? Is that a good or a bad thing? Why did I come here in the first place?
A part of what I find disorienting when I’m hanging out on Instagram, is that when I first started going there – around 2011 – it was a more neutral public space, like the digital equivalent of a park, let's say. Visits were low-stakes and leisurely. Time moved chronologically. Activities were limited. There were no ads, vendors, or transactions – just people with a shared appreciation for visual beauty. Ten + years later, when I ask myself all the questions and really check in with this space, what I see is a mall. But it’s not like the Galleria I hung out at as a teenager. It’s a lot cooler. Alarmingly accessible – but unarguably cooler. There are better stores. It’s easier to shop small. If you’re looking, you can find smart, passionate people also hanging out there. There’s something sort of like an art gallery. Information on where to find cool food pop-ups. And you can learn things at this mall. Even things about greenwashing, how to avoid fast fashion, why we over-consume, and how to shop smarter. So, yes, I do want to go to this mall. I’d like to find its quiet corners.
I’m just not sure I want to go there every day.
Yes. Thank you for your genius.
Really needed to read this atm.