Why am I still on Twitter?
Really though, why?
Every day, no matter how hard I try, I succumb to the same habit: picking up whatever device is nearest to me and browsing Twitter. Or — if you have brainworms — the site known as X.
Spending time on Twitter wasn’t the smartest move even when it was at its peak, but since Elon Musk took over, things have gotten progressively worse. These days, it’s neither particularly fun nor interesting.
So why do I spend more time on the site than ever before?
And you know if I ask a question at this point in a piece, I’m contractually obliged to answer it. That’s what we’re gonna do.
Way back in 2022, Elon Musk purchased Twitter. This was a long, drawn-out process that felt very much like a joke he was legally forced to honour. When he did get his hands on the social network he burnished his reputation as The World’s Unfunniest Man in a variety of ways, including bringing a literal sink into the offices and saying “let that sink in.”
Of course, Musk also did his “best” to overhaul Twitter — something that’s only succeeded in making the site worse than ever.
I’ve written about the platform’s array of issues before, but, in summary, the removal of the verified public figures and the introduction of the new Blue Ticks basically allowed people to pay for engagement. Combine this with a smaller staff, an algorithm that feels years behind TikTok, and people leaving the platform because of its far-right political leanings, and you end up with modern day Twitter.
And modern day Twitter is a car crash.
It’s a combination of clickbait, the worst political commentators you could imagine being given air time, and various explicit content. A low-quality bazaar. I’ve quite literally opened the app and seen people getting shot.
Businesses, people, and publications are flooding off the hellsite. If Twitter was a byword for the worst parts of the internet before the Musk takeover, that’s only accelerated since.
Yet despite all this, despite all my negative talk, and despite all my issues with it, I’m still on Twitter. All the damn time.
And it’s hard to work out why.
I’m not an Elon Musk fan, I’m not an ideologue, I don’t even like social media — yet here I remain, locked in.
Yes, I could say I use Twitter for work. That’s one rationale. I write about internet culture for Forbes, and a big portion of understanding the online world flows through Twitter. Still, this is a cop out. I could quite easily just use the platform for work and work alone, but instead I pump a lot of time into the platform every day.
If I was being charitable, I could say I want to stay on the cutting edge. While Twitter isn’t what it used to be, many memes and pop culture moments still spring from the platform. Only TikTok can really compare in terms of the influence.
In reality though, my inability to leave is far less exciting.
A lot is about effort. I can’t be bothered. I don’t like Twitter, but these negatives aren’t strong enough to actually get me to leave. My addiction to the Endless Scroll is strong enough to keep me coming back like a pig hungry for its slop, finding just enough tasty nuggets in the never-ending slurry to stay put.
I’ve written a lot about my social media addiction in the past, so I’m not going to retread that ground specifically. This particular experience, though, is a new one.
Twitter doesn’t feel like a neutral(-ish) place like many other social networks. Instead, it’s actively following a path I vehemently disagree with. Yet…. there’s still good stuff on there. It’s a confusing bundle. I love Twitter, and I hate it.
More than that though, there’s simply no good competitor. Maybe, one day, Bluesky can take over, but it’s too small and too self-congratulatory currently. Like most of these starter platforms, the majority of posts seem to be about the network itself, rather than the world outside of it.
The thing that keeps me coming back to Twitter — its immediacy and excitement — doesn’t exist on Bluesky.
Effectively, there won’t really be a Twitter “replacement.” People won’t leave the platform for something that’s the same. Instead, there needs to be something better, a reason to overcome the static feeling and evolve into something new.
Then, maybe, I’ll change.
Until then, I’ll probably stay on Twitter. I’m not proud of it, but we can’t be our best selves all the time. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.