The arts and the social media trap: why organisations might need to rethink their use of Facebook and X now that there’s little to pick between the two platforms.
Facebook’s appointment of Republican-leaning Joel Kaplan as President of Global Affairs signals a worrying shift: its commitment to combatting disinformation, moderating hate speech, and creating a safe online space is dependent on its vested interests. The social platform has fallen into line with the incoming presidency but also adopted the same technological solution to fact-checking that Trump’s ally Elon Musk has imposed on X.
This will undoubtedly concern the fourth estate but will these developments sufficiently persuade its 3 billion users to abandon Facebook? Unlikely, but as these platforms increasingly prioritise vested interests over safeguarding, community and truth, do arts organisations risk appearing complicit when using social media to advocate their cause? What should arts organisations be doing if anything to navigate this? Arts organisations build trust amongst their audience of consumers and supporters by demonstrating their commitment to community and social responsibility. In a world where social media platforms might be seen to be undermining those values, what impact might there be on arts organisations’ use of social media given the political landscape over the next four years?

Anecdotally, connections in my network use Facebook for their existing interests or to maintain family connections (or keep family members at a safe distance). My feed is all runners, quickfire recipes, and fitness influencers with way too much time on their hands. What would it take for my connections to abandon the platform? Probably for their feeds to be polluted with the same level of disinformation and abuse as during Brexit for users to abandon it wholesale. That seems unlikely right now, although best to keep an eye on the engagement and views to see what shifts in audience behaviour occur in the coming months and years.
In the meantime, addictive video platforms with highly personalised and constantly shifting algorithms serve up content so successfully as to make prising users away from their ever-increasing dependency on TikTok or Instagram an unwanted outcome. Yet, the negative effects of this dependency are at odds with a generation that claims to be concerned with their mental health and well-being. So, emboldened content creators are legitimised, justified spending hours creating ever more imitative and reductive content for video platforms. Similarly, Facebook’s stable and unquestioning user base will accept its dubious commitment to accuracy, safeguarding and moderation. X will continue in its ghettoisation. In the scrabble to get to the buffet and sate our appetite for views, likes and comments, we’re all of us contributing to the very thing none of us wants in the long term.

How do arts organisations reconcile their need to pursue untapped demographics residing in different digital spaces in a bid to convert likes to ticket sales, when the very platforms they’re distributing content across are considered to be at the heart of a generational mental health crisis, or ambivalent to spread of disinformation that risks the undermining of democracy? Is money spent from dwindling budgets developing content for dubious platforms really money well spent? Where is the line? Can everyone see it? Has anyone crossed it yet? Does anyone especially care?
And yet, this content exposes an irony, content written for the digital space to pose questions about developments in the digital space, in order to reinforce my work as a digital content specialist. Those who criticise it are also reliant on it. Finding our place in it and determining where our boundaries are is crucial. I’m not entirely sure as many organisations are doing that as there might be. Now might be a good time to start.