Chapter III: (anti)Social Media

At the beginning of 2019, I socially isolated myself for about a month. I was living on the George Mason University Campus, and there was no one living within a two hour drive that I would unambiguously call my friend. I spent all my time in my room, or in class, where the most I ever got in socialization was occasional passing words. I would have isolated myself more if I could. The biggest source of human interaction I had was online, talking to people through Discord. It was an unbelievably lonely time, and all throughout I knew that living my life this way was making me unhappy, yet still I persisted. I feel like the film Pulse (Japanese Kairo), in its attempt to portray through subtext the phenomenon of hikikomori, does not do a very good job with it’s visuals of portraying the type of isolation of those like myself who have withdrawn from society in favor of online interaction.

The way Pulse portrays isolation is with solitary spaces. Abandoned factories, empty train cars, that sort of thing. The characters of the film are in these communal spaces designed for large groups of people, and yet they are alone. There is no one else around the characters, and therefore they are isolated. However, that is not the feeling one gets when becoming isolated from society. It is not that you are the only person in a big empty world, it is more that you live in a world you don’t understand, filled with people you can’t relate to.

There are a number of different pieces of media that do this well. The original Jacob’s Ladder and Madoka Magica: Rebellion both do a remarkable job of this, the former with it’s monsters, and the latter with it’s Clara doll city folk. Song of Saya (Japanese Saya no Uta) is probably the best exemplification of this feeling, coming from the cosmic horror genre. It depicts a protagonist suffering from a condition that causes the entire world to appear like it’s made of blood and flesh, and all the people within it like blobs of eyes and organs. The protagonist is repulsed by these appearances, so even if before he had friends before becoming afflicted, he is no longer able to relate to the place he once called home, and the people he once knew as friends. Most forms of social anxiety are not nearly so dire as what Song of Saya depicts, but the basic feeling of alienation remains the same.

With this alienation from society, there comes an urge to find a simplified form of human interaction. To replace the complexity and ambiguity of talking face-to-face to someone with the clarity of communicating online. Part of what makes it easier is the text-based nature of most interactions, which eliminates the difficulty in trying to parse someone else’s body language or facial features. Another part is the transient nature of contact, where you can drop in and out of conversation as it pleases you, while still watching how it plays out. It frees you from the social obligation to be actively involved. A final part is the commonality of interest, where it is possible for entire communities to be formed around interests that are not shared widely in common society. You may not have anyone in your school or in your town who enjoys talking about anime, but there are a number of people online who enjoy exactly that.

This commonality of interest is a problem as much as it is helpful. It helps provide a means of contact to those who are members of marginalized or minority communities, especially those who cannot express themselves in the physical world without facing real consequences. This is useful to LGBTQ+ who may come from a transphobic or homophobic household, and cannot come out to their families without being kicked out. Unfortunately, it is also useful to far-right groups, Incels, and others who share positions that cause harm to those around them. For an even more extreme example “Social Media and Suicide: A Public Health Perspective” goes into how online communities are used to create suicide pacts. The internet provides a way for people to talk about things that are less frequently talked about in mainstream media and society, and that’s not always a good thing. 

There is one part of Pulse which I feel is quite true to life in regards to social isolation, and that is the lasting damage it does which makes it difficult to reintegrate into mainstream society after going through the isolation itself. After traveling into one of the red tape rooms, the people are changed. They are no longer able to interact with the rest of the world in the same way, even if they are with someone when they come out of it. The red tape room is a horrifying place, but leaving it does not mean that they are free of it. Almost everyone who goes into the rooms ends up returning to them, either through death, or by turning to ash or a shadow on the wall. So it goes with the internet. Isolating yourself to the online world fundamentally changes your kind of interaction, and makes it more difficult to communicate with those who are not incredibly online. Part of this is the alternative lexicon and field or references that are not used by mainstream society, but the other part is the more complex nature of in-person interaction. It’s something you have to constantly work at, or else grow unaccustomed to it. 

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