Social media – friend or foe?

I am somewhat addicted to Twitter, and marginally hooked on Facebook. I find them useful in following multiple news sources, building a work profile and staying in contact with friends across the globe. That said, I think (and this is what all addicts say, apparently) I can control my habit. I definitely prefer human company to my computer and feel that social media should enhance life, not subsume it.

That said, there is an addictive element to social media (or, perhaps, to my personality). Being constantly in touch with people and getting blow-by-blow accounts of events can be compelling.

Researchers at Harvard, according to Helpguide.org, have found some evidence that the act of disclosing information about oneself is connected to the same regions of the brain that are linked to reward. This could be one reason why some people can be compelled to post and share information on social media.

But can we really become hooked on social media?

Some psychiatrists (perhaps desperate for new business which they may even pick up online) have called for the consideration of a social media addiction disorder. In fact, some are now talking about Facebook Addiction Disorder, amusingly called FAD. If you search Facebook, you can, rather ironically, find several pages on it.

Dr Cecilie Schou Andreassen heads the Facebook Addiction Project at the University of Bergen. Preliminary research by the Bergen team apparently suggests that younger people and women are more likely to be addicted to Facebook.

Social media addiction, or so the so-called experts say, can result, paradoxically, in social withdrawal. Some academics also say there may be a link between narcissism and Facebook and Twitter use, but others argue that sharing enhances relationships and intimacy. Still others claim that the increasing use of social media suggests a collapse in interpersonal face-to-face contact.

This is, arguably, nowhere more evident than the explosion in dating sites on the Internet. Meeting people on the Internet through such media might point to an increasingly disconnected world where we can no longer connect in person, or our communities are so shattered and our lives too busy to relate in traditional ways.

But people are using dating sites and social media to connect in their droves. In the US, the dating sites industry is a $2-billion business, and revenues have increased by 50% in the last year. Twitter has about 100-million users and Facebook now has a whopping 850 000-million users, and both are growing daily. In other words, nearly one-seventh of the planet is using Facebook.

The sheer volume suggests that people must be getting something out of it, and it would be wrong to simply pathologise the increasing use of the Internet and desire to connect with others as an addiction or something trivial.

The world has changed. Harping on about the good old days when people met at the corner café seems pointless to me. Not exploiting new ways to connect with others is self-defeating. I also think scare stories about increasing levels of dependence and growing social decline because of the Internet are unproductive.

New technologies have always provoked different forms of moral panic. Rock music and Elvis Presley’s hips were going to be the ruin of civilisation. Television was going to turn our brains to mush.

Of course, one can debate the merits of television and some music. But what is indisputable about them and many technologies is that they are born out of creativity. The question, therefore, for me, is not about social media addiction, but rather about how it can be used positively in terms of collaboration, new ideas and innovation.

So more focus is needed on how we can all, young and old, learn to harness the opportunity social media offers, good and bad. Spending energy on teaching creativity is far more productive than prevaricating on the evils in the world and trying to guard against them.

This article by Brandon Hamber was published on Polity and in the Engineering News on 23 August 2012 as part of the column "Look South". Copyright Brandon Hamber.

Is South Africa just one big vuvuzela?

There were moments of brilliance on the pitch during the 2010 World Cup, but it was what happened off the pitch that grabbed the most attention.

The media were obsessed with the presence of Diego Maradona as he minced about like a diminutive rotund action man squeezed into a suit against his will. The Jabulani ball and its tendency to balloon into the crowd when struck from a free kick (unless by Diego Forlan) also provided for hours of discussion. The cheating from players feigning injury to more serious incidents, such as the blatant handball by Uruguay to deny Ghana a place in the semifinal, also produced much chitchat.

However, the clear winner, when it came to off-the-pitch distraction, was the vuvuzela. For the entire tournament, pundits, fans and even those with no interest in football were talking about it. Everyone had an opinion on the noisy horn. There were Facebook petitions to have it banned as well as voracious calls for its recognition as the cultural symbol of African football and, hence, for its preservation.

Credit: flowcomm / CC BY

Since the end of the World Cup, debate has continued. Several English Premiership teams have banned the vuvuzela from their grounds. At Wimbledon, there was much anxiety that someone might sully the Centre Court with a long droning honk, and it was hastily outlawed. There is also now a dispute over who owns the vuvuzela from a commercial perspective. Several companies have tried to register the trademark. Masincedane Sports, which has been producing the instrument since 2001, reached a compensation deal with the Shembe Church, in South Africa, about ownership, even though the final decision is still pending on whether Masincedane owns the trademark. The church claims that it invented the instrument in 1910 with a view to using it in religious ceremonies. The vuvuzela is, apparently, useful in driving out demons.

Practically speaking, however, the vuvuzela really belongs to the people of South Africa, and now the world. UK supermarket giant Sainsbury’s is said to have sold over 50 000 vuvuzelas. You can even buy them from online global retailer Amazon. Perhaps the reason for its success is that, in many senses, the vuvuzela is a lot like South Africa.

The vuvuzela gets noticed. It draws attention to itself. It has touched the international imagination. Just like South Africa. This is in part a result of apartheid, which captured the global consciousness for decades. But the focus on South Africa is also a result of the fact that South Africans, seemingly, like to voice their concerns. Whether talking about the demise of apartheid, the Rainbow Nation, crime, HIV/Aids or the state of the economy, we like the world to know what is going on. This is partly about being located at the southern tip of Africa, which results in a need to feel connected globally.

But it is also likely that the desire to externalise issues is deeply cultural. It is, I believe, how we, as South Africans, solve problems. This tendency has helped South Africa to deal with many historical challenges. But it has also meant that we, as South Africans, can be as much to blame for the negative coverage of our country as the international media.

We have all met the South Africans abroad who are only too willing to enlighten people about what a terrible country it now is (often with a racial subtext implying ‘now that apartheid has ended’), leaving listeners determined never to go there.

So, while verbalising our problems helped us in the past, the question is: How can we talk about real problems like wealth disparity and the relative crime problem while communicating all that is positive about South Africa at the same time? This may seem like a complex challenge, but, if a simple plastic trumpet can signal joy, exhilaration, celebration, exuberance, unity, disappointment, dismay, and alarm, then, surely, so can we.

This article by Brandon Hamber was published on Polity and in the Engineering News on 20 August 2010 as part of the column "Look South". Copyright Brandon Hamber.