The perils of Musk’s Twitter takeover
Tesla and SpaceX CEO Elon Musk has bought Twitter and here is why it is dangerous: Musk is the world’s richest man with an ego and mouth to match, while Twitter is the world’s most politically influential platform. Some may contest the second part of my statement. After all, Twitter is a dwarf when compared to Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp or TikTok. However, Twitter’s raison d’etre is very different from other social networking apps. While the bigger players revolve mostly around lifestyle, Twitter trends are overwhelmingly about politics, identity and ideology. And often they are deeply divisive. This is why Twitter is like a megaphone in the hands of a rabble-rouser.
Musk himself is extremely popular on Twitter. He has 114 million followers, second only to Barack Obama, who has 133 million. However, when it comes to engagement, Musk is second to none. At the time of writing this article, Obama’s last 10 tweets fetched an average of 25,000 likes; Musk’s last 10 tweets got an average of 5,27,000 likes. Those who engage with Musk like his brash, abrasive style, and his populist-libertarian politics. Musk ostensibly stands for ‘free speech’. His pinned tweet (the one that always stays at the top of his page) is a poll asking users to give their opinion on what advertisers should back — ‘freedom of speech’ or ‘political correctness’. ‘Freedom of speech’ wins hands down, getting over 78 per cent of the 2.75 million votes cast.
On the face of it, this is a win for democracy. In reality, it is the exact opposite, when ‘political correctness’ is positioned as an antithesis of ‘free speech’. In effect, it becomes freedom for ‘hate speech’. This became evident when racist and Nazi memes from numerous anonymous accounts resurfaced on Twitter, within hours of Musk taking over.
Musk represents a global, often right-wing, reaction to politically correct language that has increasingly become the norm in dominant public culture. Those who back politically correct language believe that words matter, because they shape the nature of discourse. Those who oppose it say political correctness has become a fetter on freedom of speech; if you slip-up you risk being ‘cancelled’.
There is a political economic context to this. From the 1980s, public discourse has been increasingly dominated by a combination of neoliberal orthodoxy in economic policies and liberal pluralism on social issues. This marriage would have been unthinkable in the decades before that, when movements for social equity aligned with left-wing politics. The rise of finance capital accompanied the ‘domestication’ of socially liberal positions, as long as they steered clear of class politics. It became the norm for people to declare that they are left-wing on social issues and right-wing on economic issues.
In the past four decades, it has given rise to an elite, which has superficially embraced liberal politics while gaining immensely from the unfettered rule of the market. As evidence from across the world shows, this period has been marked by a massive rise in inequality and underemployment.
Standards of living, which had improved dramatically in the post-war period, have stagnated, for the majority of people, especially in the developed world. Many who have been left behind by the rise of finance have, otherwise, been born into dominant positions in traditional power relations. For instance, a white male in the US or an upper-caste male in India could justifiably feel disenfranchised today, because of the lack of opportunities. If their privileged social position in terms of race, class, caste, gender, religion or nationality is pointed out to them, they see it as their natural right. Men point to the ‘natural’ order of gender relations, whites evoke the ‘natural’ superiority of their race.
It is a short step from feeling disenfranchised to perceiving the ‘elites’ as the enemy. Politics that pushes for equity is seen as a deliberate conspiracy by these elites to keep the ‘people’ subjugated. It is important to note that this politics of grievance is never democratic. It does not emerge from a common bond between all subjugated people. This is an attempt by historically powerful groups to form a common cause to re-establish their rule. This is what happened in Germany in the early 1930s, where the Jews were portrayed as wealthy elites who had stabbed the German soldiers in the back and caused Germany’s defeat in the First World War.
The first converts to the Nazi doctrine were petty traders and small businessmen, who had been ruined by the post-depression collapse of the German banking system. A large section of the working class stood behind the German socialists and the communists, even till late 1932.
Today, there are such disgruntled groups in every nation in the world, who feel that they have the natural right to power and prosperity. These people are attracted to populist ideologues who use social media platforms to spread their libertarian ideas, opposed to politics of equity in gender, sexual orientation, race and class. They find a lot of traction on Twitter, which is especially suited to propagating divisive de-contextualised opinion. This messaging drives users to their channels on YouTube and their podcasts. Mainstream media, in turn, lionises them by giving them coverage and presenting them as experts.
If finance needed to disarm socially liberal politics in the early 1980s and 1990s, today in the midst of a global economic crisis, it needs to keep public disenchantment firmly away from class politics, which questions neoliberal economic policies.
Musk buying out Twitter becomes especially crucial at a time like this. Musk has already shown that he is going to allow those who can pay more for privileges on Twitter. Blue ticks will now come for a monthly fee, making it easier for propagandists with money to subvert the platform. It is a danger to democratic politics for it enables the powerful to enlist sections of the ‘people’ who were born into privilege, but have been disenfranchised. It is a perfect recipe for the continued rule of finance capital across the world.
The author is a senior economic analyst
