Why the Left Should Keep One Foot in Big Social Media (For Now)

Last month, Truthdig contributor Jeb Lund wrote an enthralling piece, “The Case for Abandoning X.” In it, Lund supported the mass “Xodus” of several million leftists from the social media platform, X. Citing everything from Elon Musk’s support for Donald Trump’s reelection to the amplification of right-wing extremism under his reign, Lund opined that there’s no reason to stick around on this “Nazi bar” hosting a global “town square” for much of the planet.

For many on the left, the new hangout spot is Bluesky, a Twitter replica that presently features no ads, (supposedly) better content moderation and a (somewhat) decentralized architecture created by a “public benefit” corporation. Others migrated to Meta’s Threads, which prioritizes “fun” over politics, and Mastodon, a decentralized alternative to Twitter/X.

While it may be tempting to abandon X for more agreeable pastures, a closer look reveals how the mass Xodus could leave the left — and democracy — on shaky ground.

For starters, this ideological migration might mold Bluesky into a high-fiving echo chamber insulated from more centrist and right-wing perspectives. Meanwhile, by escaping the hostilities of a more varied community inclusive of political and social extremists, leftists are merely ceding the majority to the right and, critically, terminating avenues for reasoned debate. But why bother, when so many of the racists, sexists, imperialists and others pushing hate on social networks will take their beliefs to the grave? 

Despite how it may appear on your feed, there are still users who have not decided what they believe, and some are even open to changing their minds. As the self-proclaimed champions of genuine equality, leftists must fight back against the forces of inequality with a vision for a better society. If the “normies” are hanging out in the major networks, we need to be there, too, demonstrating how and why to respond to hate.

In the immediate backlash to Trump’s election win, Bluesky gained more than 1 million new accounts daily as part of the migration from X. Predictably, the Xodus has since slowed to a trickle and stabilized. There are now about 24.2 million Bluesky accounts, which comprises about 4.4% the size of X’s 550 million accounts, 9% the size of Meta Threads’ 275 million accounts and nearly twice the size of Mastodon’s 15.5 million. The ultra-large platforms tower over Bluesky and Mastodon: Facebook, Tiktok and Instagram each host more than 1 billion accounts.

Young people increasingly get everything from fashion advice to dinner recipes and their news from social media. However, research polls show that even on X — the leading digital hangout for political discussion — most people still use the platform for things other than trending hot takes. And Pew’s research has shown that in the U.S. while only 25% of users say getting news is a major reason they use the platform, 40% say it’s only a minor one.

These numbers show that, to a majority of users, X remains more than a wasteland of political hate speech. It’s still where the people are. And, in the event of an eventual society-wide shift out of the platform, we can be sure that the right will follow the masses, in which case the left will once again face the presence of the right-wing extremists they seek to avoid. Some of the pleasantries currently vaunted at Bluesky may disappear quickly.

But even this is only the tip of the iceberg, and those joining the Xodus need to be aware of whose arms they’re running into.

The corporate colonization of ‘decentralized’ social media

Bluesky is a so-called public benefit corporation — this should be of great concern to us all.

Related The Case for Abandoning X

Public benefit corporations peddle the fiction of corporate social responsibility that allows the corporation to balance social good with profits. Yet, PBCs are still profit-seeking corporations, and their record is not inspiring. The online educational course provider, Coursera, for example, has become a $2.6 billion platform that brought its CEO $29 million in 2023 and recently partnered with Google. Musk’s xAI is a PBC, and OpenAI, the great bane of the “AI justice” community, is considering turning its company into one, too. Without deeper structural changes, the migration to decentralized platforms may be the first step in the corporatization of decentralized social media.

Bluesky’s business model introduces the perverse incentive to pursue profits while engaging in ethics washing to justify its decisions. Already, Bluesky is creating a divide between the haves and the have-nots through monetization features like access to high-resolution videos and profile customization. It is also considering adding a payment system for creators, which would reinscribe the already-unequal influencer economy that concentrates hegemonic voices and corrupts political conversations. And don’t forget that Bluesky receives millions of dollars in funds from venture capitalists, including steep funds from blockchain investors, while pledging the right to use your personal data for “marketing purposes.”

Bluesky promises it won’t introduce ads, offer pay-for-exposure schemes or turn the platform into a hyperfinancialized social experience. Yet, these are just that: promises. As its user base expands, so will its potential profits. There will be no shortage of incentives to sell out, whether through features, partnerships or an outright acquisition.

Addressing these criticisms, Bluesky claims its capacity to exploit the public is nullified by the open and decentralized structure of its technological backbone, the AT Protocol. In theory, if the platform were to force unwelcome features on its users, such as ads, anyone with the time and resources could create a Bluesky alternative without ads and users could seamlessly migrate there. However, corporations have long found ways to exploit free and open source software to keep users confined to their products and amass their own riches.

Based on its own backbone, ActivityPub, the Mastodon social network embodies a socialist ethos that allows users full control over the platform and its community. Bluesky, by contrast, is corporatizing decentralized social media, but the left is mostly silent on this. 

Why leave us subordinates to lofty assurances that Bluesky will never do us wrong? Why isn’t the left pressuring Bluesky to abandon its corporate structure and become a nonprofit, with full transparency and democratic accountability to the public? For a crowd that rejects techno-solutionism, the tech left seems satisfied with the idea that the technology itself will keep Bluesky — and the other corporations about to pour into this space — in check.

In truth, the idea that we should abandon X now that a fascistic right-wing billionaire has taken over the platform and bent it toward personal self-interest risks reducing social media justice to the behavior of a single individual. This ignores the structural problems of our social (and other) media ecosystem. We urgently need a broad-based, democratic restructuring of how society produces and disseminates knowledge across all institutions, from universities to legacy media, that coincides with a democratic and decommodified social media landscape.

In the meantime, those fighting for social justice are tasked with countering propaganda within Big Social Media as long as it stands but also as new forms of corporate colonization emerge. If social media becomes less centralized, we will be tasked with fighting off corporate and, in many cases, government power so that we, the people, can shape our own future collectively.