Kicking the habit

Like many people this week, I'm finally doing what I've been thinking/talking about doing for a long time now: Leaving Twitter behind.

We all know the reasons by now. The bots, the trolls, the misinformation, the ever-escalating spite and the pointless, energy-sapping negativity and all that it means for the real world.

In the end, one conversation made up my mind, and I wasn't even part of it. I'd never be able to find that conversation – actually, it was more like an infantile playground slap-fight – again, because it was one of millions of weirdly vicious little exchanges flaring all over Twitter every minute of every day.

Two people with no interest in listening or exchanging views, just slinging brutal barbs with the sole intention of bringing a little misery into the other's day. On and on, they went, in an exchange that basically boiled down to: 'You smell.' 'No, YOU smell.'

It does bad things to our brains, Twitter. By the end, I'd watch these endless, circular arguments going on, with both sides reverting to their expected characters, throwing out the expected insults and doing their level best to make someone they've never met as unhappy as possible, for no good reason at all.

I'd see people trading vicious barbs, throwing horrific insults at people they'd never meet, stuck in their Twitter troll personas, then see the same people doing the same thing minutes later, to different opponents.

And I'd be left thinking: What happens when you're finished with this? Once you've spat the foulest slurs at some stranger, do you just put down your phone, take the dog out and watch TV with your wife? Do you just pretend you're still a normal, balanced, decent human being?

More and more, I'd leave Twitter with one question on my mind: What fucking age are you people?

The day I finally realised that I couldn't stop people from being wrong on Twitter was a major breakthrough.

I eventually worked out, after a bit of Brexit sparring, that fighting with strangers on the internet wasn't really for me – but some people just love it. Not only do they love arguing, they love being furious, and they love making other people furious about the thing they're furious about – and it's harder than it should be to step out of that cycle.

The dopamine hit that comes from rage tweeting is undeniable. It must be what being part of a torch-bearing mob in a Universal monster movie must be like: Joining that gang of righteous citizens, marching through the village to sort out that monster.

Except the monster on Twitter is usually just some sad-sack desperate for attention, or a bot programmed to press all the buttons necessary to activate the torch-bearing mob. No, scratch that: The monster is our own worst instincts, let loose by virtue of anonymity/safe distance.

What's the point of getting furious about the stupid opinions of the latest just-out-of-high-school right wing rent-a-gob when there's more than enough real stuff to get furious about in the real world? Why devote mental and emotional energy to the offensive wrongness of some random dude's views on international trade when he doesn't even know the difference between 'their' and 'there'? Why bother getting sucked into these virtual arguments at all?

I don't know about you, but I don't have the mental real estate to devote to these things any more, and I don't have the patience to step over them every time I want to talk about more worthwhile things with more worthwhile people.

Think about social media as transport. Twitter is just one mode. You're at the bus stop on a busy route, and the first bus comes along, but everyone on board is screaming and throwing things at one another. Why get on board? Why surround yourself with those people? Just wait for the next bus, and get on with all the people who just want to read, chat about music, listen to one another and share photos of their pets.

I understand all the arguments about standing your ground, but one thing I've realised is that Twitter – for me, at least – just isn't worth it. It's not that important. I met a lot of terrific people there, and I hope to see some of them on another platform, but Twitter just became a bad habit.

It'll take some time to adjust, because I've been using Twitter since 2009. I'm used to the way things work there, for good and ill. But it's just not worth it any more, and here's why: Anything I miss about Twitter is long gone. The fun, inventive, inspiring place I loved has been bulldozed, and a new group of people are dancing in the wreckage.

Let them enjoy it, and good luck to everyone with the mental resources to hang on and ignore them, but I'm out. Real life is calling, and there are better places to drop in for the occasional virtual chat. Without anyone calling me a cuck, trying to sell me Bitcoin or telling me climate change isn't real.