The Narcissism of Small Differences
Or, why social media ruined our ability to disagree
I recently bowed out of the Catholic Feminist Instagram page. It was simultaneously easier and harder than I thought it would be. (Shout out to my mastermind + Tsh in particular for encouraging me to take the leap!)
When I launched the Catholic Feminist podcast in 2017, Instagram helped it grow. A lot. I credit Instagram with much of the show’s early take-off. I would diligently upload new graphics for each guest, offer sneak previews, host lives + discussions. I spent a lot of time in the comments sections and I shared a lot of quotes on women and the church. I viewed it as “micro-blogging”, a way of sharing bite sizes of information that would entice people to listen to the podcast + sign up for the email list.
But as most of you know, Instagram has changed extraordinarily the past few years. Yes, it’s inundated with ads, but it’s more than that—I can scroll past a picture of a cute rug no problem. I saw three main issues with Instagram that I simply didn’t want to put forth the energy to invest in:
1) The pivot to video. If you look at the statistics of your reach on Instagram, you’ll see that videos you post are seen drastically more. I had over 30K followers and maybe 200 people would see a photo I’d share. It didn’t matter how much time or attention I poured into it; unless it was something that was going to garner a LOT of comments (ie., something ~controversial~) most people weren’t going to see it. So why post? If I want to write for just myself, I can journal. If you love reels, go with God, but I just don’t. Alternatively, you can throw a bunch of money at your posts to promote them. I don’t want to do that either. Not because I think it’s necessarily unethical; I would just rather spend my heard-earned dollars on things like books, my kids’ sports, or the fancy truffle cheese at Trader Joe’s.
2) The short-form nature of nuanced topics. I don’t think you can comprehensively cover a topic like racism in the church with a few squares (or reels) and some text. If people are turning to Instagram for their connection and education instead of their library and in-real-life community, it’s like wanting a fine wine and being handed a McDonald’s Diet Coke. Every single study that’s been done on social media shows that it leaves us feeling less connected and is overall not good for our mental health, especially when it comes to teenagers. So why would I want to participate in that?
3) The idea of conversations exploded into a glorified WWE dogfight where the person with the snappiest comeback got the highest rewards, and I realized the things people wanted (hot takes, gossip, and shutdowns) were not what I was willing to provide. So I took my ball and went home.
All of these are related, but for the purposes of this letter, I really want to address the third point. And to do so, I want to talk about a psychological concept I’ve recently learned about: the narcissism of small differences.