I was scrolling through Facebook yesterday, nothing unusual in that, just a quiet five minutes trying to forget a certain football match and letting the world drift past. And it struck me,quite suddenly,that I hadn’t actually seen anyone I knew for some time. Not properly, anyway. A birthday notification here, a shared post there, the odd photograph. But conversation? Real conversation? That felt distant. Almost like a memory.
And that, I think, is the point.
Because social media hasn’t gone anywhere. Far from it. In the UK, we are spending more time online than ever-around four and a half hours a day on average. We are present, we are active, we are scrolling, watching, absorbing. But we are not necessarily talking.
Recent figures suggest that only about half of us now actively post, share or comment, down from closer to two-thirds just a short time ago. That is not a collapse, but it is a quiet, steady retreat. And you can feel it, can’t you?
Take Facebook. Once upon a time, it was gloriously ordinary. People told you what they had for dinner, where they were going on holiday, what their children had said that morning, the small things, human things. Now, you are as likely to be shown a video from someone you have never met, a suggested post, or something sponsored. The algorithm is busy, very busy. And even when someone you do know posts something, there is every chance you will not see it. Organic reach, something which used to happen naturally, is often tiny now unless it is boosted. So even when we speak, fewer people hear us. And, over time, we adjust. We speak less.
Then there is LinkedIn, a fascinating case. On the surface, it feels alive: posts everywhere, announcements, milestones, “delighted to share…” and “honoured to announce…”. And yet, scratch beneath that and something feels different. Because much of what we see is not quite conversation. It is presentation. Carefully considered, carefully worded, occasionally heartfelt, yes, but often shaped-and with one eye always on how it might be received.
And who can blame us? A growing number of people admit they think twice before posting. How will this look? How might it be interpreted? Will it still make sense in five years’ time? So we pause. We edit. Or we say nothing at all.
What we are left with, increasingly, is observation. We scroll, we watch, we take it in. We agree with things, disagree with others, smile at photographs, feel something. But we do not always join in. It is rather like standing at the edge of a gathering,happy to be there, but not quite stepping into the middle of the room.
None of this is dramatic. There has been no great exit, no slammed doors. Social media is still part of daily life for millions of us. But its nature has changed. From participation to observation. From conversation to curation. From friends to feeds.
And perhaps,just perhaps, that tells us something about ourselves as well. A little more cautious. A little more aware. A little more considered. Which, in its own way, might not be a bad thing.
But it does leave a thought. A quiet one.
Somewhere along the way, the conversation stopped.
And I am not entirely sure we noticed when.
