Twitter is Trash! Why Am I Still There?

The Disability Community--That's Why

It comes in waves, this disparagement of that platform I insist on using, even while I insist on dead naming it.

** First the complaint was that Twitter was all celebrities and Donald Trump. But I discovered that if I didn’t follow any of these, they didn’t chase me down. I never see them in my feed. And, of course, the Donald departed the field to play in his own sandbox.

** Then Elon Musk bought the platform and gutted it. Users predicted its immanent collapse — better transfer to something else before all is lost.

I stuck around for the Schadenfreude, to have a front row seat while it happened.

Which disappointed — It’s still here. But so am I.

** Then there are the stories about how despicable Elon is. He abuses his workers. He maligns a number of social groups. He manipulates the algorithm to push the most negative political positions. Former users didn’t want to send one more dollar his way. One by one they reached their tipping point, made their pious protests and departed the field.

Okay, my grandparents were union members. My blood type is AFL-CIO. I was raised in a household that never crossed a picket line, and never let my son have a Nestle’s candy bar.

So that gave me pause.

But there is that song by Sweet Honey in the Rock.

I respect the choice to leave. But when I buy a shirt, when I drive my hybrid car with its lithium battery, when I deposit my pension check—my hands are not clean.

** Yes, I have noticed the devolution of the so-called “community standards.” Tweets that threaten violence against groups and even individuals stay up, regardless of complaints. Accounts with menace in their user names somehow do not violate these standards. It seems the only thing that can get a user blocked are tweets that make fun of Elon himself, and tweets that include the word genocide.

Oh right. Cisgender isn’t allowed either.

There is a saying that freedom of the press belongs to those who own the press. And Mr. Musk, who fancies himself a fan of free speech, demonstrates that principle everyday.

** Oh gosh, now Labour MPs are leaving, identifying the app’s role in recent far right riots in Great Britain.

So why am I still there? No, really, now that I reread all that, why AM I still there?

The great attraction of Twitter [the only entity that I dead name, by the way] is that it provides a way for people to connect who do not know each other IRL. Yes, Substack holds that potential, and I hope that over time that will happen. But Substack is for readers. And Twitter is for people who have shorter attention spans.

** And there’s another strike against it. 280 characters do not allow for subtlety nor depth in discourse. The platform contributes to the deterioration of our mental capacity and public discourse.

Well, that’s the thing. Some of us already have short attention spans. Some of us have cannot follow complicated trains of thought. Some of us have challenges.

Some of us have disabilities. We find one another on Twitter.

There are few other spaces where we can meet. For one brief moment, the world experienced the isolation of people with disabilities. For one brief moment, companies made accommodations for their workers that they previously said were impossible when only the disabled needed them. For one brief moment, the value of digital connections was recognized.

COVID could have created a larger solidarity, when the world shared some of the restrictions that some of us face daily. But that solidarity evaporated as soon as the majority no longer feared that COVID would kill—them.

It still kills—us. Mask mandates were once challenged for thwarting personal freedom. But as above, that same concern for personal freedom evaporated as soon as the majority no longer feared that COVID would kill them. Personal freedom does not extend to mask wearing.

Everyday I read about people being harassed on city streets for wearing masks. Even by family members, who don’t want the wedding photos spoiled by the downer reminder that there’s a sister who has multiple health conditions. Where do I read about this? On Twitter.

Twitter is where the disabled, the immune-compromised, and people with mental illness talk with each other. It’s where we can be in the same [digital] room. It’s where we share information. It’s where we say words that are not acceptable among the temporarily-abled.

So on Substack, I will lean into mental health with humor and science, a continuation of my book Prozac Monologues: A Voice from the Edge and my blog of the same name. I’ll also write about my latest move to Ireland, spirituality, and aging with adventure.

But if you want to tell me you survived that suicide attempt, go over to Twitter. I’ll be there, too. I’ll send you a cake to celebrate that we’re both still there.

Would you give your reasons?