Am I a heartless ghoul if I post a photo of my viral croissant in times of global warfare?

There are certain social media rules we can all agree on: Ghosting a conversation is impolite, and replying “k” to a text is the equivalent of a backhand slap (violent, wrong, and rude). But what about the rest of the rules? When can we really remind someone of our old Venmo request? What happens when someone tries to flirt with you on LinkedIn?

Fortunately, terminally online writers Delia Cai and Steffi Cao are here to answer all your digital quandaries, big or small. Welcome to Fast Company’s new advice column, Posting Playbook. This week, Delia and Steffi will both tackle the issue of social media etiquette in times of global suffering.

What are the ethics of posting about your nice little life when horrible things are happening in the world? For example, are you a heartless ghoul if you post a photo of your viral croissant when babies are dying?

Delia: This really feels like the question of our time, doesn’t it? Speaking on behalf especially of all the American millennials who came of age on the internet by posting frantically about Kony 2012, us digital natives have quite the complicated relationship with social media and activism. On one hand, of course, we’ve witnessed the power of posting as a way to launch movements, call out injustices, and hold the powerful to public account; on the other hand, like, remember Harambe? Our motives to outrage-post are not always as noble as we’d like to believe, and it’s okay to feel skeptical or even cynical about its efficacy. Where’s the line between, say, slacktivism and performative wokeness, or even just being annoying versus being helpful? 

These days, our social media personas are so inextricably linked to our sense of public personhood—not to mention the mostly correct assumption that everyone is online all the time—that it genuinely feels like a civic duty to be as vocal as possible about world events, particularly when it comes to the rather unambiguous matters of, say, police brutality and genocide. But at the same time, one’s personal life does go on. The desire to post about regular stuff isn’t any more unethical than making a big lunch when there is starvation in the world. Is there a secret, perfect ratio of dutiful vs. selfish content (or general behavior) to be achieved? We could debate for years whether it’s unethical to sandwich the latest atrocity infographic in between your Positano thirst traps—hey, attention is attention!—but totally moral posting is probably as rare as, well, a totally moral person. 

Overall, my rule of thumb is this: Post whatever you want, so long as you’re not confusing that action alone as a substitute for all other methods of civic engagement. If you don’t want to look performative, just don’t post about things that you’re not actually talking about in real life with real people. But lose the shame. The asynchronous, arbitrary algorithms of our social media platforms have cultivated a general expectation of oddly juxtaposed horror already; whoever’s mad that you’re posting a viral croissant during our nth unprecedented time is not exactly “helping,” either. 

Steffi: Agreed! There is much shame and guilt around the etiquette of posting that is ultimately not a productive emotion towards what you want, which is justice for people who are being killed for imperial gain. The ethics online are simply a reflection of our ethics IRL. Period! 

But I think more and more people are coming to terms with this cacophonic reality, and are shedding themselves of that shame: For Gen Z and those chronically online, many seem to have taken the lessons of early millennial internet and pushed past that dissonance toward action. Who will ever forget the time that K-pop fans blocked up the police surveillance app with fancams during the height of the Black Lives Matter movement, or the time that people literally emptied a Trump rally in Tulsa by mass-booking tickets and then ghosting? #MeToo, the Uncommitted movement, and even the Swiftie–Ticketmaster beef are all examples of online movements that have led to real, tangible change. Digital activism has and will continue to make waves, so long as we focus on the core principles of what pushes a movement forward: information, actionable support, and constant pressure.

As a former civic engagement organizer, we were always reminded that half the battle is getting anyone to care. Posting news updates and verified information onto your platform just might get someone to pay more attention to what’s going on. In the case of Israel’s war against Palestine, humanitarian crises in Congo or Sudan, or even situations like local legislation changes on rent or library hours (Eric Adams, keep the library open on weekends, for the love of god), these are often battles of information as well, so sharing real-time information can often be helpful for us privileged ones who might not be aware. Like Delia said, the question of morality comes into play when your decisions are selective to your level of guilt, because the reality is that social media doesn’t exist in a vacuum anymore. You think you just fell out of a coconut tree?

https://www.fastcompany.com/91168564/posting-on-instagram-during-global-conflict?partner=rss&utm_source=rss&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=rss+fastcompany&utm_content=rss