The idea sprouted one fine evening when I was casually, like half of the world, doomscrolling. A list of Gen Z memes curated for my feed, followed by sprinkles of book recommendations and numerous varieties of the infinitely stretched horizon of short-form content that was meant to take bits of my hours until it consumed a whole. Nevertheless, Instagram has had this feature for a while. We call it the “mutual reaction” feature amongst ourselves, where a bubble of a mutual’s profile picture pops up in the left corner of the reel if they’ve liked it.
It tells me a lot about the person, somehow or other. An acquaintance I never talked to (except once, when she asked for academic help) often likes queer content, and I sum up the idea that she belongs to that community. About the friend who likes every single reel regarding the Greek mythologies and retellings of history (who I have, again, never talked to), I know immediately whether or not she’s seen the musical on the Odyssey and that she should, like me, hate the Christopher Nolan adaptation of the Trojan War.
Now you might have two questions.
- Nafisa, why do you have all these friends you don’t talk to?
- Nafisa, why are you making perceptions of completely random people based on their digital footprint?
And I kid you not, the first question is very vital to the discussion too, but it is a conversation we hold off until we answer the second.
How does this performativeness play out and why?
Since the very prevalence of social media and more so after the global health crisis in 2020, we have attached ourselves to our social platforms as though we have grown an additional limb. We religiously update and concern ourselves with our social representation. Even birthday wishes to our friends in a simple Instagram story have the hidden concern of perfect pictures, lucrative storytelling, and the most illustrative layout that fits one’s image. Of course, there also remains the hidden agenda of being perceived a certain way. Not only do your followers view what layout you picked and if the music is mainstream enough to elicit reactions, but there’s also your friend resharing your story, making you present to another circle of people who you believe are actively theorising who you are as you present yourself in the shortest content. You might think it’s not that serious, and that will remain your judgement as we explore further into the mutual reactions diagnosis.
With the mutual likes feature, that might have gotten further out of hand. There are certain types of content that groups resonate with — from the Gen Z perspective, there are reels that romanticise mundane life, comedy skits that end by looping back to the starting scene, or anti-aesthetic imperfect filter scenes; going beyond those feels like stepping off the invisible set box of the average Gen Z. It is no tangible rule, only a perceived one, and yet they play so much into what is socially representable.
A subtle way this plays out in social media is when I encounter reels that tend to categorise platonic relationships between men to be a sort of “queerness” as a form of humouring, and yet since the average South Asian (adults, and usually young males) is traditionally conservative or not progressive enough to channel this humour, the ones who are progressive tend to comment “can’t be caught liking this”. Now this does the contrary. Commenting clearly makes you much more visible, but this comment is rather a parody of the underlying expectations of our digital footprint — the intangible doctrines that dictate what is socially acceptable. This can be compared to my mother’s generation (the millennials in South Asia), considering young women laughing at improper jokes or innuendoes in public to be dishonourable.
Dishonourable. That is the right word.
But amongst peers, the stakes are higher. How we are socially perceived by our peers, acquaintances, and our closest allies dictates much of our social relationships and the public display of camaraderie, which, if compromised, can have a substantial impact on our social reputation. And, oh, what we wouldn’t give for a higher social rating.
Okay, why should I be concerned?
The very first reason and the most significant of the impacts is that it makes us reductionists. We are again ignoring the nuances of personality and confidence and compiling them into checkboxes of societal expectations and mass-producing bipolar groups of opinions. Now, while I might be making analyses of my friends’ liking something based on their digital footprint, what if I were assessing their likeability and social status, and assorting them into boxes of who they were, remembering never encountering them or having insight into their beliefs?
When I react to this short-form content and especially the ones that step outside what my social circles are comfortable with, I realise that my reaction will eventually be noticed, and someone will form an opinion of me due to my unconventional tastes in content. Alienation — the biggest fear of a youngster navigating the world — will kiss my existence when I embrace my taste in content. And if I were to fit in and be perceived in a certain manner, I would have to restrict my evident digital footprint to the ideas that I want to be associated with.
What does that leave us to be?
A group of performers fitting into an expectation instead of being the very nuances we were composed of. It leaves us shallow and deprived of detail, leaving us lacking a sense of individuality, reducing us to mere fractions. Fractions that do not represent us.
We have a certain aesthetic now. For music, we need mainstream, trending, and conformist. If not, we risk being too niche to be associated with. However, being too mainstream can have us labelled ordinary. So, there is a certain thought put into even the subtlest of digital activities; even though how we present ourselves should come naturally to us based on individualistic preferences, we become victims of expectations that we’re relentlessly trying to meet. Fonts for captions and dress codes for occasions have always existed, but when an obnoxious amount of energy is put into the display, that leaves us as performers who stress our very existence and risk making zero significant impact because we’re too saddled up with how we’re perceived.
Recall the question I mentioned would be vital to our conversation?
I reached out to them. The friends with those digital footprints and the perceptions I had. She did watch the musical. She does hate the adaptation. She did watch other musicals like Hamilton. She’s also gay. She also apparently has daddy issues. Some perceptions I had were absolutely aligned. However, there was greater information, patterns, and identities to their texting styles and how they responded that told me more about them. I’m sure a cup of coffee with them one afternoon would reveal more. They’re people. People with nuances.
People with complex thoughts and divergent experiences only means that no two people are the same. And so when you’re performing next time with your digital footprint or however really, remember that they’ve never really had a cup of coffee with you to truly make out who you are. And your digital footprint? That’s only the tip of the iceberg.