People love Set the price for things: the price of a gallon of milk (3.55), the merit of a movie (89 percent on rotten tomatoes), the price of an hour of work (15 15 minimum in California). Some things are priceless – the look people give each other on their wedding day, or great holiday memories – but on social media we somehow value those moments, moderating them into “choices”. There’s no point in double-tapping a square image on your Instagram feed, but the action still holds a coin. The merit of a post or a video or even a complete profile, it comes down to how many times it was viewed and enjoyed.
There have been social media tycoons Sweet Them Hand Encourages their products year after year. Do preferences lead young people to compare themselves with celebrities and their friends in a way that damages their self-esteem? Do people encourage posts that are more inflammatory or more sexual than people would otherwise post? Are these easily driven by bot firms and integrated promotion? Lots of great platforms Tested Whether these metrics are hidden or disliked, they remain stubbornly ubiquitous in our digital lives.
The latest executive of Instagram chief Adam Mosesi has decided that it makes no sense to feed the likes completely. People Likes To like Not to mention, it’s Pros Billion dollar economy Influencers and brands. So after years of testing to completely delete the likes, Instagram this week Announcement This will leave the choice to its user. Counts of choice will be visible by default, but people can choose to view them in their feeds and in their own photos if they want.
Here’s my suggestion: Hide your preferences.
I demetrized first In 2019, months before Instagram announced its preliminary test. I used Jerry-Ragd Browser extension It hid the place that the Matrix hid in both Instagram and Twitter. The experience was candid, confusing. As I scroll through my feeds, my eyes still automatically scan for the number of likes, as if searching for price tags for the item I want to buy. I posted to the original feed and then instinctively refreshed to test how it was received.
I noticed that I was constantly looking for someone else’s approval while interacting with the posts. Ben Grosser, who developed the dematerialization extension, told me at the time that it was normal: “We’ve become dependent on numbers, so we’ve got to stand for more money than they have.” As he expanded his browser he suggested that I start losing my old habit. I had nothing to lose but something to choose from.
Finally, I relaxed this math experience. Posting about what the most likes will earn and sharing updates about my life with friends has become less common. Scrolling through Instagram became like wandering around the art museum: I chose without checking the price of the sticker on their post on Grosser doesn’t make demetricators for Twitter and Instagram apps, but I still have its extensions installed on my laptop. In a priceless world I can finally be free.
Since I first tested demetrification, there was a lot of talk about how we need to make choices online that can distort our behavior. In the documentary Fake is famous, Journalist Nick Bilton artificially inflated the followers and the three most influential people like a count – and they found that they were overwhelmed and exploited in search of more power. These influencers knew that their choices were fake; Bilton bought them from a bot farm to juice their engagement numbers. Yet, the illusion of being loved turns them into real friends and strangers.
So, what are the rest of us doing? Researchers are divided over whether digital engagement will affect mental health; Posted as reply A recent study, Most likely it may be too early to say. Nevertheless, chasing metrics can have an impact on what we post (or don’t) online. “When the metrics of the visible interface are hidden, users can understand how their activities were significantly managed – almost by appearance – by the presence of numbers,” said Grosser, who has studied dematerialization for more than a decade. People do stuff not for themselves but for the ‘village’.