The Medium of Division: How Social Media Dehumanizes “The Other”

“The medium is the message,” proclaimed Marshall McLuhan, the renowned media theorist of the 1970s. His point was to emphasize the societal impact of the medium itself, not just its content. So, what is the message of social media as a medium? I’d argue it’s division, and here’s how it works.

Social media is a powerful tool for dehumanizing “the other,” whoever you decide that may be, because they cannot talk back or defend themselves. It acts like a silent punching bag: you get to construct your own narrative about them and see only content that supports it—a self-reinforcing loop of confirmation bias.

For those who are more avoidant, this dynamic works particularly well. Even if you shy away from direct confrontation, it doesn’t mean you’re free from anger or frustration. Negative emotions need an outlet, and social media has become the perfect tool for this. You can depict the other as intolerant, hateful, misogynistic, or racist, casting yourself as virtuous. It turns social engagement into a simulation because there are no real-life consequences to online behavior, especially when anonymity is an option. You’re unlikely to criticize people you know personally since that could lead to uncomfortable in-person confrontations. Instead, you criticize an “out-group”—total strangers you’ll likely never meet. This out-group is what I mean by “the other.”

When venting negative feelings, there’s no incentive to humanize the other. The same psychology applies in war: if you perceive your enemy as just like you, dropping bombs or inflicting harm becomes far harder. To act out against them, you need to think of them as less than human. Similarly, social media encourages dehumanization of the other, allowing us to channel our anger without restraint. A Democrat frustrated with the political landscape, for instance, might dehumanize Republicans to avoid holding anything back in online rants. In real life, however, social interactions come with both risks and rewards. Social media removes the risk, much like video games remove the actual danger from simulated violence. Social media divides us because it disconnects us from others, allowing us to avoid confrontation altogether.

In the latest presidential election, the primary concern for many Republican voters was the economy. The working class is struggling despite economic indicators like inflation rates and unemployment statistics. Just as election polls have struggled to capture true political sentiment in recent years, these economic metrics don’t fully capture the challenges faced by working-class Americans. In their frustration, immigrants became a convenient scapegoat, although it’s not entirely baseless. The Texas governor shipped busloads of them to major cities like New York and convinced many liberals of the problem. When you’re barely making ends meet, debates over identity politics may feel like navel-gazing. It’s not necessarily a lack of interest; it’s about priorities. If you’re worried about eviction or affording your child’s school supplies, it’s difficult to prioritize electing the first female president.

For many urban Democratic voters, however, the economy is not their foremost concern. They take for granted that they can purchase necessities with a tap of a button. Their primary focus is often on their children’s intangible advantages, such as “leadership” skills from prestigious colleges, while families in minority groups may prioritize practical skills in fields like electrical work, plumbing, or nursing. As people climb the social ladder, identity politics often becomes more relevant, particularly in leadership and management, where perception plays a significant role. Consequently, some wealthier, white families support initiatives aimed at fairness and inclusivity, envisioning a world where their children can climb the social ladder as high as possible regardless of identity.

When a problem feels urgent, we naturally expect others to see it as equally pressing. When your house is on fire, you won’t be thinking about the war in Ukraine. Working-class voters find it hard to fathom those unconcerned with the economy, just as affluent voters struggle to understand why others might not prioritize social justice issues. Consequently, an urban voter might see a Trump supporter as opposing women’s or minority rights, thinking, “How could they? They must be misogynists or racists.” Meanwhile, that Trump supporter likely cast their vote with economic concerns in mind, feeling overlooked by Democratic voters who, in their view, ignore their struggles.

Regardless of the specific issue—be it abortion, immigration, the economy, democracy, or international conflicts—we assume others care about it equally. When votes go against our interests, we may interpret it as a personal affront. Social media becomes an outlet for these frustrations, where opponents are not around to challenge us. Thus, we feel safe to express ourselves bluntly, casting our adversaries as despicable while painting ourselves as morally superior.

However, this isn’t genuine social engagement; it’s only a simulation. Yet, if you perceive it as real, the longer you participate, the more convinced you become of the other’s inherent evil, ultimately frightening yourself. If the other is not human, they are capable of anything, which leads to “doom scrolling” late into the night.

Social media, in itself, is neither good nor bad. It simply became a powerful means to amplify our avoidant behaviors. But we don’t have to use it that way. When I engage with others online, I make a point to use my real identity, even if my views are controversial. I hold myself accountable, not for others’ sake, but to keep myself grounded in reality. I also don’t hesitate to confront those in my own circles because they’re more likely to engage genuinely. This approach allows for real social interaction, which involves both risks and rewards.

If you try this, you’ll find that even people you consider enemies are, in fact, human. You may find yourself with a more positive outlook—not because you’re fooling yourself but because your previous assumptions were skewed. The world isn’t full of evil people. While evil certainly exists, there is no need for you to artificially inflate it just so that you have an outlet for your anger and fear.

The message of social media is division, but once you recognize this, you can choose to take control of it, rather than allowing it to control you.