By Matthew Cahill
I downloaded Twitter in 2021, like many, with the intention of receiving quick football transfer news and to satisfy my short-term attention span with a quick dopamine rush. However, since Elon Musk’s purchase and subsequent rebranding into ‘X’ in October 2022, my timeline has sadly transitioned into a breeding ground for far-right hate speech, endless identity politics and even the occasional nudity. So what went wrong?
The answer lies in a combination of poor moderation policies, algorithmic changes, and most importantly, a shift in platform philosophy. Under Musk’s leadership, Twitter—I refuse to call it ‘X’— has positioned itself as a “free speech absolutist” space. Of course, at face value, this sounds noble. In practice, however, it has led to the unbanning of previously suspended extremist accounts, reduced content moderation, and an algorithm that often rewards outrage and controversy over nuance and truth.
This shift hasn’t just affected the tone of the platform, it’s changed the way users interact with it. Engagement is now often driven by provocation, and the line between recently coined “rage-baiting” and genuine discourse is blurrier than ever. As a user, it can be easy to feel trapped between staying informed and staying sane. This struggle is unfortunately where many less cautious scrollers fall victim to the spread of misinformation. The problem with this, other than the fact that it is literally incorrect, is that it often spreads and ultimately moulds into a mob-like mentality, one that rewards outrage over understanding, and shaming over dialogue. When misinformation spreads unchecked, it doesn’t just mislead, it radicalises. Suddenly, nuance disappears, and people begin to adopt opinions not because they’re well informed, but because they’re popular, viral, or emotionally charged.
This mob-like environment can make it feel dangerous to question dominant narratives or to express uncertainty. You’re either fully aligned or instantly suspect. The result? A vicious cycle where the loudest voices dominate, and genuine, thoughtful conversation gets drowned out. Sadly, in an already pessimistic country, Irish political discourse —if you can even call it that—has become even more polarised and performative. Nuance is a rare currency, and badfaith actors thrive in the chaos. Complex issues like housing, immigration, and healthcare are flattened into clickbait debates, where shouting past one another replaces real engagement. Therefore, instead of fostering understanding, Twitter now often acts as an amplifier for outrage, where sadly, pessimism always defeats optimism and scepticism too continues to triumph over fact.
I find that for a platform that once prided itself on real-time insight and open dialogue – not to mention simply being enjoyable to use – this transformation feels like a betrayal of its original promise. And while every social media space has its flaws, the current state of Twitter feels uniquely exhausting. It feels less like a community, and more like a never-ending shouting match where truth is just another opinion.
I came for the likes of Fabrizio Romano and David Ornstein. I stayed for… well, I’m not really sure anymore. Possibly just out of morbid curiosity. Or maybe because, like many others, I keep hoping that if I refresh the timeline just one more time, I may still stumble upon a funny joke. Or at the very least, a decent transfer rumour.