Toxicity in Social Media
November 22, 2025 8:35 AM
What is the appeal of staying connected to people from our distant pasts — people who play no meaningful role in our lives anymore? Is it nostalgia? Is it hope? Or is it simply habit?
I’ve been wrestling with this question lately, especially as I think about the interactions I’ve had with old classmates or acquaintances from long-forgotten events. It’s a very small subset of my “friends,” but those few interactions tend to linger in my mind more than they should.
For the most part, social media is not a staple in my personal life. I participate less than most, yet I interact with it more than I’d prefer. It feels more like a task than a way to stay connected with people I don’t regularly see. I’ll post occasionally, but outside of the podcast, I’m a fairly private person — and I think that’s become a defense mechanism.
I talk about my life, my kids, and my experiences openly on the podcast. But when it comes to social platforms, something in me pulls back. Maybe it’s the process or the performative nature of it. Maybe it’s the fact that hosting a podcast and having one foot in the political sphere puts my family in a more public position than I’d like. That protective instinct is strong, especially when it comes to my kids and the world of Facebook and X.
There is a toxicity in social media.
Over the last decade, I’ve watched people I once considered thoughtful and intelligent steadily lower the bar — trading curiosity for certainty and compassion for confrontation. And I’m not innocent in this either.
I’ve used words with the intent to hurt, hoping it might shake someone into seeing a different viewpoint. But it never works. It doesn’t change minds. It doesn’t shift perspectives. It only reinforces the walls on both sides.
So why do we stay on these platforms?
I believe social media started with benign intent — a place to express ourselves, connect globally, and share experiences. At least that’s the version of the story most of us participated in. But even knowing the origins, even knowing the “Social Network” portrayal of rating and judging women, I like to believe most users never signed up with that in their hearts. They wanted community. They wanted connection.
But somewhere along the way, that shifted.
The online world has become deeply polarized. Conversations have become battlegrounds. And the middle — the space where understanding grows — has felt increasingly vacant.
None of this division will be resolved through snark, anger, or “owning” someone in the comments.
Progress doesn’t happen through insults. It happens through conversations grounded in respect, empathy, and a willingness to listen — even when it’s uncomfortable. That’s how we inch back toward a center where solutions are possible, where people feel heard, and where compassion becomes part of the equation again.
It won’t happen overnight. It will take time, patience, and a whole lot of effort.
And while I may stumble, as we all do, I’m committed to trying — to recognizing my own missteps and correcting them wherever I can. Because the only way out of this toxic cycle is by choosing to be better than the platforms that profit from our worst instincts.
If any of this resonates with you, I hope you’ll take a moment to reflect on your own interactions online. Are we helping, or are we just adding to the noise? If you’re willing, share your experience in the comments, or pass this along to someone who might need the reminder. The effort to make social media healthier starts with each of us — one conversation at a time.