One of the most revolutionary developments of our time is the emergence of social media—a space that has, for better or worse, flattened traditional hierarchies of communication. With a smartphone and an internet connection, anyone—regardless of background, age, or education—can suddenly have a voice. This voice is loud, instant, and unrestricted. Gone are the days when editors, publishers, or moderators acted as gatekeepers of public discourse. Today, the digital stage is open to all.
At first glance, this seems like a triumph for democracy. For centuries, the power to influence public opinion was concentrated in the hands of a few: scholars, journalists, politicians, and other elites. Social media has changed that. Now, a farmer in a remote village, a student in a crowded dormitory, a university dropout pretending to be an intellectual, or a market woman under a shed can publish opinions, challenge authority, or spark movements. In many ways, this has enabled marginalized voices to find expression and even organize for social change.
But this democratization of speech has a dark side—one we’re increasingly grappling with in today’s digital society.
It is only on social media that you’ll find half-literates confidently disputing experts on matters far outside their depth. It’s not uncommon to see someone with little formal education aggressively arguing against a seasoned professor on complex economic policies or medical science—not with evidence, but with ego and conspiracy theories. Or to watch teenagers—barely out of their diapers—insulting elders with no sense of decorum, simply because the platform allows it.
Worse still, social media has created a new breed of self-proclaimed "activists"—many of whom have no inkling what activism truly means. For them, activism is not about informed advocacy or principled resistance; it's about making noise, picking fights, and posturing for attention. They latch on to popular causes, align with influencers who parade themselves as champions of the masses, and support them blindly—even when those figures are obviously pursuing personal or political interests.
These pseudo-activists don't question narratives, they parrot them. They don’t read, they retweet and share. They don’t reason, they react. And if you dare to challenge their idols, question their logic, or ask for accountability, you’re likely to receive a barrage of insults—followed swiftly by a block. Their version of activism begins with provocation, thrives on rudeness, and ends with digital applause from people just as misinformed and loud as they are.
This is the crisis of our digital age: when ignorance and arrogance meet bandwidth. Social media has become a marketplace where opinions are mistaken for facts, and where popularity often overrides principle. The anonymity and lack of consequences embolden many to say what they would never dare utter in real life. And the algorithms that power these platforms reward outrage—not truth, not depth, not reflection.
Ironically, this digital anarchy thrives in societies where respect for elders, educators, and professionals was once sacrosanct. The traditional African or Asian value systems that emphasized humility and hierarchy have been flattened by the pixelated world of likes, shares, and retweets. In the past, a person had to earn the right to speak in public—through experience, wisdom, or accomplishment. Today, a clever meme or viral rant is all it takes.
Yet while it’s easy to dismiss this as a generational problem or a symptom of declining values, it actually reflects a deeper issue: a crisis of critical thinking. The solution, therefore, isn’t to silence people—after all, freedom of speech is a fundamental right—but to promote digital literacy. People must be taught not just how to use social media, but how to engage with it responsibly: to verify facts, respect expertise, understand issues in context, and know when to listen rather than speak.
And maybe—just maybe—it’s high time governments and societies took a hard look at regulating the social media space more effectively. Not necessarily to stifle free expression, but to uphold decency, curb misinformation, and enforce existing laws that are already in place to guard against hate speech, cyberbullying, defamation, and the reckless abuse of public platforms. Freedom without responsibility is chaos. And the digital space, if left unchecked, risks becoming a breeding ground for not just ignorance, but also dangerous divisions.
In conclusion, social media is a wonder of modern life—an unfiltered arena of voices, emotions, and ideas. But its greatest strength is also its biggest flaw: it gives everyone a microphone. If we want that microphone to amplify wisdom and not just noise, we must begin to reinvest in education, foster respectful discourse, and demand more from ourselves as digital citizens. Otherwise, we will continue to build a society where everyone speaks—but very few actually think.
Tags
Articles