Born during the digital revolution, Gen Z is the first to have grown up with the internet, a phenomenon that revolutionized communication and information access. Our generation’s status as the first “digital natives” saturates us with a unique consciousness that separates us from past generations, thereby uniting us with one another. This quality, or rather, experience, imbues us with certain distinctive characteristics (use of slang, subscriptions to certain aesthetics, and allegedly issues with interpersonal skills, though I don’t buy that last one), creating what on the surface is a Gen Z monolith. However, the internet’s problem child, social media, has actually had the inverse effect. Social media’s algorithm rewards partisan content. Political content, especially rousing misinformation, tends to incite a reaction in its viewer, boosting engagement for both the platform and the individual content creator. Hence, woven into the very fabric of apps where almost every teen and young adult spends hours of their time a day is an algorithm that has a vested interest in the creation and interaction with “rage bait.” This, combined with shortened attention spans preferring short form media, and distrust of mainstream news makes social media a necessary platform for politicians to communicate with the younger generation.
What is now a sphere of political interaction originally had much humbler beginnings. Social media most recognizably was catapulted to a global stage with the introduction of the internet forum MySpace. With its 2003 launch, MySpace became the first application to serve as a culturally significant social hub in which users could create blogs, share music and photos, and easily communicate across cultural, and physical borders. In the early days of social media, teenagers spent the majority of their time on forums such as MySpace exchanging trivia, opinions, and fan interaction stories about popular bands, such as My Chemical Romance, in message boards, many of which are still available on offshoot sites despite the defacto demise of MySpace in 2008. While questions of whether MCR’s 2003 album “Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge”, or their 2006 album “Life on the Murder Scene” were no doubt contentious (for purely journalistic purposes, and in service to UT, I extensively explored MySpace Archives, SpaceHey and Reddit threads) the modern era of social media is more dangerously divisive.
Research shows that many social media apps intentionally push political content to viewers, often from accounts they don’t follow. As researcher Emma Connolly says, “on these platforms, politics mixes with entertainment creating fertile ground for memes and viral content that shape public opinion in real time.” This trend has set off a myriad of effects both on the reporting and the content consumption side. Understanding that political content increases visibility, social media influencers have increasingly begun to dabble in politics, often with little or no substantive background in the field. Similarly, realizing that social media visibility and participation in trends is vital to reaching young voters, politicians have begun to infiltrate the social media landscape in all its forms, from features on popular podcasts to creating TikTok accounts. While politicians adjusting their PR strategy to changing times seems innocent enough, when you couple it with the simultaneous defunding of crucial, bipartisan outlets like PBS and NPR with the growing distrust of mainstream media, the result is a dangerous shift towards influencers replacing journalists, and a trivialisation of political issues. In effect, politicians are sacrificing intellectual integrity for virality and shock factor in the name of influencing young voters. Take for example a TikTok edit made by California Governor Gavin Newsom’s official social media team. Pasted over a photo of Jeffrey Epstein and Donald Trump standing shoulder to shoulder, smiling, is a screenshot of Meghan’s Law and its definition: a US statute requiring law enforcement to make information about sex offenders (a category that both Trump and Epstein fit), available to the public. Megan Thee Stallion’s popular song “HISS” cuts through the video with the lyrics, “these hoes don’t be mad at Megan, these hoes mad at Megan’s Law”. One commenter on the video sufficiently voices the appropriate reaction to such an advertisement, saying “this is such a wild time to be alive.” When I first saw the video, I’ll admit, I liked it, and then shared it on the platform with a friend. By interacting with the post, I fed information about my political affiliation to TikTok’s algorithm, which consequently provided me with similar content. Subsequently, my TikTok feed became an echo chamber of my own beliefs in short form media meant to rouse my emotions, consequently peppering my for you page with misinformation. According to Rutgers University’s Mike Lucas, “social media platforms also have weak guardrails for deterring misinformation.” Fact-checking can be hard to implement, especially when a platform has a vested interest in misleading content.
More shockingly, in August of last year, popular YouTubers, The Nelk Boys, who initially rose to fame through their prank videos and wild lifestyle, and are now MAGA micro celebrities, sat down with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netenyahu on their podcast, Full Send. A sit-down interview with an internationally wanted war criminal is no easy get, and the PM’s choice of interviewers (middle-aged pranksters who make videos entitled “7 Ways to Compliment Boobs”) made many scratch their heads. However after painfully listening to all one hour and thirteen minutes of the podcast episode, Netenyahu’s objective became clearer. Rather than critically challenging him, as any journalist would do, the podcasters allow Netenyahu to proselytise, warranting Israel’s actions in Palestine while blatantly denying their genocidal nature. Instead, the interviewer humanises the Prime Minister by asking him what his favourite McDonald’s order is, and chatting about Tel Aviv nightlife. This is not an isolated incident. Leading up to the 2024 election, President Donald Trump made a guest appearance on the podcast of comedian, and loyal Trump supporter, Joe Rogan. Nathan Robinson, editor-in-chief of the Current Affairs Magazine, explains this trend of politicians featuring on popular podcasts as a way for politicians to be able to gain visibility, especially from the younger generations, without being held accountable. The podcasters in question often lack a political knowledge and understanding of journalistic obligations necessary for a comprehensive interview.
Regardless of political affiliation or social media medium, politicians’ attempt to appeal to Gen Z through social media and a consequential triviality is not only disheartening, but dangerous. Instead of cutting social media out completely, one Trinity student offers a hybrid solution: “I get most of my headlines from social media, and then if a story interests me I go and find out more information from a news outlet.” Critically consuming news, becoming the journalist, is the most effective way to combat misinformation.
