Authors:
Duncan P. Brumby
For decades, digital platforms have served as our town squares—spaces where ideas, dialogue, and connections flourished. As we enter 2025, however, many of these once-thriving spaces feel fractured, their roles either diminished or entirely repurposed. For those of us in the CHI community—researchers, practitioners, and readers of Interactions magazine—the question arises: Where do we gather now? How have the platforms that shaped our professional and social lives evolved, and what does that mean for how we communicate?
This search for connection is not new. Long before today's social media giants emerged, early Internet pioneers built communities on platforms like the WELL and Usenet newsgroups. Howard Rheingold, in The Virtual Community: Homesteading on the Electronic Frontier [1], described these early digital town squares as spaces where people could share ideas, debate, and build relationships. But just as those pioneering platforms evolved, fragmented, or faded, today's dominant social networks face their own moment of transition. Once again, we find ourselves asking: Where do we gather now?
Insights
→ Social media platforms, originally designed for connection, often foster disconnection through design choices that prioritize engagement over meaningful interaction.
→ Algorithm-driven feeds optimize for attention capture, disrupting spontaneity and reducing the depth of relationships.
→ Human-centered design principles can help rebuild digital spaces, with smaller, intentional networks offering a more sustainable model for valuable connection.
Twitter—now X (our ex)—once served as the virtual town hall for online dialogue within the CHI community but now lies mostly silent. Attendees of CHI may remember @_CHINOSAUR, a mystery T. rex account known for its witty commentary that added a playful dynamic to CHI Twitter's vibrant discussions. Sadly, it made its last roaring appearance in July 2024 before retreating to digital extinction—a foretelling of things to come. Since Elon Musk's $44 billion acquisition, drastic layoffs, erratic policies, and alienated advertisers have turned Twitter into a digital graveyard, a stark reminder of how fragile communal spaces become when leadership misaligns with user needs, fueling a more polarized environment (https://bit.ly/41tUcoj). Yet, for all its decline, Twitter still shapes mainstream narratives (https://bit.ly/3DTaWN0). Some users remain, keeping a foothold while exploring alternatives; others have moved entirely to platforms like Bluesky, where many in the CHI community are rebuilding the digital town square. The migration is ongoing, but can any platform truly replace what Twitter once was?
LinkedIn remains the default platform for professional networking, offering a polished, career-focused space. This polish, however, can feel overly curated and boastful—a showcase for achievements where humility and self-deprecation are rare. Even Microsoft, LinkedIn's parent company, acknowledges the platform's limitations, calling it "too boring for kids" due to its emphasis on careers over genuine social exchange (https://bit.ly/4l7bShg). While LinkedIn excels at professional visibility, its risk-averse atmosphere often dampens the warmth and authenticity that make interactions feel truly meaningful. Ironically, despite positioning itself as the premier job-seeking platform, LinkedIn has faced growing criticism for employer "ghosting"—leaving candidates without responses after a lengthy application process. In response, the platform has introduced new tools aimed at improving employer engagement, though frustrations remain widespread (https://bit.ly/4l7kuoh).
By triggering reactive decision making, social media pushes users into reflexive rather than deliberate engagement, prioritizing habits over substance.
Facebook remains the largest social platform, with around 3 billion monthly active users as of 2025 (https://bit.ly/4l7MGaE). It still provides a space to reconnect with old friends, keep up with colleagues' updates, and sustain long-term relationships—at least for those who remain active on the platform. But relentless commercialization, driven by ads and engagement algorithms, has pushed many away. In January 2025, Meta compounded this by shifting to a Community Notes model, a move widely criticized for potentially amplifying disinformation and eroding trust on the platform (https://bit.ly/41F2dHr). It's no surprise, then, that many friends, family, and colleagues seem to have started the year with a resolution to leave Facebook for good.
TikTok's user-driven content has captivated younger generations, offering a dynamic, refreshing alternative to Facebook's ad-driven algorithms. Its powerful recommendation system and culturally relevant, user-generated content have made it a global phenomenon—but its future remains uncertain. In January 2025, U.S. President Donald Trump delayed a nationwide ban, giving ByteDance, TikTok's China-based owner, more time to negotiate a sale or deal (https://bit.ly/43cuUwi). This precarious status underscores how global platforms are increasingly entangled in geopolitical tensions, a trend echoed in recent debates over China's DeepSeek AI (https://bbc.in/3FLfzcq).
Instagram remains a thriving visual-first platform, perfect for sharing snapshots of a holiday on the beach, a festival in the woods, or fleeting moments of beauty amid the rush of daily life. But for those seeking in-depth discourse or idea sharing—particularly within communities like CHI—it often feels limited. While Instagram fosters creativity and self-expression, its format prioritizes visual storytelling over extended discussion. By contrast, long-form platforms like Substack and Medium cater to audiences seeking deeper engagement, allowing ideas to unfold through essays, newsletters, and podcasts.
As larger platforms face growing challenges, many users are turning to smaller, private networks. Group chats on platforms like WhatsApp and Telegram offer intimacy and focus, making them ideal for close-knit discussions—whether brainstorming a CHI paper with colleagues or planning a party with friends. However, they lack the scale and spontaneity of broader social platforms. Niche tools like Discord, favored by gamers and hobbyists, and Mastodon, a decentralized and privacy-focused alternative, provide tailored interactions but struggle to re-create the broad connectivity and serendipity of traditional public forums.
The fragmentation of digital spaces raises fundamental questions about what we truly seek from these platforms—questions I find myself asking more and more. Do I want casual humor, deeper personal connections, or professional growth? Can a single platform meet all these needs, or am I, like so many others, scattering across multiple tools, each fulfilling only a fraction of what I once found in the digital town square? As I navigate shifting platforms, attempt to reconnect with old friends, and watch once-thriving spaces fade, I keep coming back to the same question: What does a better online world look like, and how do we build it?
Communication Tools: From In-Person Chats to Digital Messaging
This article was sparked by a conversation with Kate McCusker of The Guardian about Gen Z's shift from phone calls to texting (https://bit.ly/4ifqmtA). The way we connect has always evolved with technology—walking together, picking up the phone, or messaging online. Each new tool has expanded our reach, enabling instant global communication but also introducing new complexities. The real question isn't just where we gather now, but what we can learn from how these tools have shaped our interactions—and where they might take us next.
Walk with me. Walking and talking is one of the oldest and simplest forms of communication. The rhythm of movement mirrors the natural flow of dialogue, with participants taking turns sharing stories and observations. Walking also engages both body and mind—movement helps ideas flow, and the shared experience of a changing environment shapes conversation in ways digital interactions struggle to replicate.
But walking together isn't always possible. As our social circles stretch across cities and continents, physical colocation becomes rare. Health and mobility issues can make walking inaccessible for some, while larger groups add complexity—conversations splinter, turn taking becomes difficult, and worthwhile exchange is harder to sustain. Communication is shaped not just by the tools we use but also by the spaces we inhabit and the constraints we navigate.
Call me. The telephone transformed communication by enabling real-time conversation across distance, but it also introduced new expectations. Shared household phones carried unspoken rules: scheduled catch-ups and etiquette around when it was too early or too late to call. The arrival of answering machines, and later mobile voicemail, subtly shifted these norms. Initially seen as impersonal, these tools soon became essential, allowing people to leave messages when someone wasn't available. This marked the first major step away from the expectation of an immediate response.
Ironically, the telephone itself accelerated this shift to asynchronous communication. The second major step came from a simple design choice: Early telephones lacked an off switch. As Barry Brown and Mark Perry note, this design embedded the habit that when a phone rings, you answer it [2]. Now, we carry cell phones everywhere, always on and available, creating the illusion of perpetual reachability. In reality, though, no one is constantly available—our days are busy, fragmented, and filled with competing demands, including meetings, deadlines, family responsibilities, or just decompression periods needed after a long day.
Always on, yet harder to reach. Mobile phones have created a paradox: Despite being constantly available, meaningful conversations are harder than ever. The expectation of availability conflicts with the reality of fragmented schedules and competing priorities. Asynchronous tools let us message at any time, but they also introduce ambiguity: When should we expect a reply, and how long is too long to wait? Managing availability now requires planning, but vague or overly optimistic plans often result in unfulfilled tasks or missed goals [3]. Even small adjustments—like rethinking when and how we connect—can create space for focus and ease the pressures of constant connectivity.
However, many of our digital tools are designed for reflexive engagement rather than intentional interaction. Notification cues alert users to every new message the moment it arrives, creating a sense of urgency and encouraging instant responses, often at the expense of more important but less time-sensitive messages [4]. Frequent task switching further erodes focus, as Gloria Mark explores in Attention Span: A Groundbreaking Way to Restore Balance, Happiness, and Productivity [5]. Even brief breaks can help: In another study, Gloria Mark, Stephen Voida, and Armand Cardello found that stepping away from digital work communication tools for just a week improved focus by reducing reactive engagement and stress [6]. Social media platforms amplify this pressure, subtly instilling a sense of guilt for being "unreliable" or unresponsive, even when delayed replies are necessary for maintaining focus. This reactive engagement cycle fuels stress, contributes to burnout, and reinforces an always-on mentality, making it harder to disconnect.
Social media platforms reinforce asynchronous communication by design. We share updates—publicly or privately—at our convenience, while recipients engage at their own pace, either through direct replies or passive scrolling. This dynamic makes realtime, in-depth conversations feel less necessary: Why schedule a call when major life updates have already been broadcast through posts and messages? We've reduced important conversations with friends and family to fleeting scrolls, filling idle moments while waiting for the elevator to arrive. It's a quiet erosion of connection—one we barely notice but deeply feel. Worse, these platforms are deliberately engineered to capture and hold our attention, maximizing engagement at the expense of genuine interaction.
Social Media: Designed to Keep you Hooked
Platforms like Facebook and Instagram rely on neural networks to personalize content and encourage use. Meta's AI-driven systems process billions of pieces in real time, adapting to user preferences and refining recommendations based on feedback from nearly 3 billion monthly active users (https://bit.ly/4icHpfB). While these systems create highly personalized experiences, they also raise concerns about oversight, accountability, and user autonomy. Human-centered responsible AI emphasizes balancing innovation with ethical responsibility, ensuring AI prioritizes well-being. Without safeguards, platforms risk fostering engagement strategies that encourage fixation rather than meaningful connection.
This tension becomes clear in how platforms personalize content. When you first join, they offer a broad mix of interests, supplying variety, novelty, and diversity. Over time, they learn from your behavior: What do you linger on? What grabs your attention? These systems build a detailed understanding of your preferences, reinforcing certain patterns and profoundly shaping your experience. The more you engage, the more refined the recommendations become, narrowing exposure and shaping consumption. Why? Because your attention is the product. These "free" platforms monetize engagement by selling targeted access to advertisers. The more time you spend on the platforms, the more data you provide—and the more valuable you become to the company.
This process creates a pattern of fixation, like being stuck in a hamster wheel. The vastness of the Internet—its knowledge, creativity, and potential—is reduced to a curated subset of interests. Whether it's cats, cars, celebrities, or interior design, the result is the same: a narrowing of what we see and engage with. And this narrowing isn't incidental—it's deliberate. Platforms maximize engagement by continuously serving similar content to keep users scrolling. But here's the rub: Even as content becomes less interesting—even monotonous—the habit persists. By triggering reactive decision making, social media pushes users into reflexive rather than deliberate engagement, prioritizing habits over substance. This cycle keeps users scrolling, increasing time on the platform—and, ultimately, maximizing monetization. So why isn't there a reset button?
The Failure of Curation: Why Social Media Needs a Redesign
Social media platforms promised curated experiences—tailored feeds, relevant updates, and valuable connections—but the reality falls far short. Users have little real control over what they see, constrained by business incentives, rigid infrastructure, and limited customization tools. Platforms like Facebook and Instagram don't allow users to reset their algorithms, instead reinforcing engagement loops that leave many frustrated and disconnected. What was once a way to stay connected with friends, colleagues, and even childhood acquaintances has become dull and draining. Feeds are cluttered with repetitive, low-effort content designed to keep users scrolling, while passive consumption fuels social comparison, anxiety, and dissatisfaction. Instead of fostering connection, these platforms have become digital holding spaces—places we turn to out of habit rather than intent. While some remain hooked, many are disengaging, seeking alternative platforms that offer more-authentic experiences.
At its core, the failure of curation stems from three interrelated issues. First, engagement-driven business models prioritize time spent on-platform over user control—keeping people scrolling is simply more profitable than empowering them to shape their own experience. Second, many platforms still rely on aging recommendation engines that reinforce familiar patterns rather than broadening perspectives, optimizing for engagement over content quality. Third, while platforms offer tools to mute content or refine recommendations, these adjustments remain surface level, offering little real agency. Users lack meaningful control over their digital environments, making it harder to curate feeds in ways that truly serve their interests.
Whether through private WhatsApp groups, focused Discord communities, or long-form platforms like Substack, people are reshaping their digital environments.
Reconnecting with old friends has become harder. Fewer people post or share, and even direct messaging feels more fragmented. The very platforms designed to bring us together are making it more difficult to sustain important relationships. To reverse this trend, social media must move beyond passive engagement and embrace systemic change—offering tools to reset, redefine, and curate experiences that prioritize depth over distraction.
Rethinking Social Media: Designing for Meaningful Connection
To address these problems, platforms need to fundamentally rethink how they shape user experiences. Currently, they offer only limited ways to influence what appears in our feeds—often reducing control to simple "more like this" and "less like this" buttons. These tweaks do little to break entrenched algorithmic patterns. A better approach would be tools that let users periodically reset their content preferences, refresh their networks, or reconnect with meaningful past connections. Without ways to step outside automated feedback loops, social media risks further fragmenting communities rather than bringing people together.
Another approach might prioritize depth over breadth—encouraging fewer but more meaningful interactions. Platforms could support long-form posts, personal reflections, and shared experiences to help rebuild the authentic connections social media initially promised. This trend is already visible on platforms like Substack and Medium, where writers cultivate dedicated audiences through deeper content. Similarly, Discord and Telegram offer ad-free spaces for focused, interest-driven communities, while Mastodon and BeReal reflect a growing desire for autonomy, privacy, and intentional networking, breaking from algorithm-driven engagement.
To reclaim their original promise, social media platforms must prioritize user autonomy and worthwhile engagement over maximizing time spent on the platform. Currently, time on-platform is treated as a proxy for profit, with engagement metrics driving advertising revenue. Shifting focus toward genuine connection rather than passive consumption isn't just desirable—it's essential for creating digital spaces that enrich and empower their users.
The Shift to Smaller, Closed Networks
As mainstream platforms struggle to foster meaningful engagement, many users are turning to smaller, closed networks. This shift has fueled the rise of platforms like WhatsApp and Telegram, where communication is more focused and purposeful. Unlike algorithm-driven feeds, these spaces allow users to connect directly, knowing exactly who they are reaching. End-to-end encryption ensures privacy, enabling candid discussion without fear of outside scrutiny.
But this closed nature is a double-edged sword. While these groups strengthen personal connections, they also limit interaction to a small circle, reducing the serendipity of public social media platforms. Privacy protections, while crucial, can also enable the unchecked spread of misinformation, harmful content, or illegal activity. Unlike public platforms with moderation policies, these spaces rely on communities to self-regulate—sometimes effectively, but not always. The result is a paradox: greater control over who we talk to, but also a higher risk of echo chambers where no one outside the group can be heard.
These networks solve some frustrations of algorithm-driven platforms but don't fully replace the digital town square—an open space for reconnecting with friends, fostering broader communities, and maintaining weak ties. As social media fragments, we gain privacy but lose the spontaneous, wide-reaching interactions that once defined digital connection.
Conclusion
From the early days of the WELL and Usenet newsgroups to the rise of Facebook, Twitter, and LinkedIn, social media has promised connection—effortless ways to stay in touch with colleagues, friends, and loved ones, even across vast distances. These platforms reshaped communication, offering unprecedented speed and scale, connecting billions of people every day. But in their relentless pursuit of engagement, they have shifted, overwhelming users, isolating relationships, and trapping us in cycles of shallow content consumption.
This paradox—the lure of connection versus the experience that drives disconnection—defines a central challenge of our digital age. Social media platforms promise seamless communication, yet their design imposes hidden costs. Prioritizing engagement metrics has eroded spontaneity and depth, replacing organic interactions with algorithmically filtered feeds, relentless ads, and content designed to capture attention rather than foster connection. Reaching out to an old friend—once a simple, unmediated act—now means navigating an interface shaped by commercial incentives. For many, the rising costs, whether in attention, privacy, or misaligned platform values, have become too great. As a result, people are drifting away from once-thriving digital town squares, seeking spaces that feel more genuine, intentional, and human.
Rebuilding the digital town square is possible. The rise of smaller, purpose-driven networks reflects a clear demand for meaningful interaction. Whether through private WhatsApp groups, focused Discord communities, or long-form platforms like Substack, people are reshaping their digital environments—seeking connection free from the noise of infinite scrolling and algorithmic pressure.
To reclaim the promise of social media, both individual action and systemic change are necessary. As users, we must be deliberate about how and where we engage. As designers, researchers, and advocates, we must champion platforms that prioritize depth over distraction and community over commodification.
But valuable change requires rethinking the business model. As long as engagement-driven advertising dictates platform design, user well-being will always come second to retention. In their relentless drive for ever-greater profits, platforms have tightened their grip—only to see users slip through their fingers, seeking spaces that feel less extractive and more human.
While writing this article, I found myself reflecting on my summer internship at Microsoft Research in 2005. As a special perk, interns were invited to a gathering at Bill Gates's home. I was running an eye-tracking study on how people search computer displays, and I distinctly recall Gates remarking that tech companies would soon be paying people for what they look at on a screen. At the time, I didn't fully grasp the weight of his words: Facebook had yet to emerge, and social media was still in its infancy. Yet Gates saw where things were headed.
Our attention became the product, and we gave it away. If we want better platforms, we need to pay in ways that align incentives with user experience rather than exploitation. Subscription models, decentralized networks, and cooperative ownership could provide more-sustainable alternatives, ensuring that technology serves us—not the other way around.
HCI has long taught us that great design begins with understanding people—how they think, what they need, and how they interact with technology. As researchers, designers, and educators, we have the expertise—and the responsibility—to shape platforms that foster genuine, lasting relationships rather than extractive engagement. The challenge ahead is clear: We must move beyond fragmented, attention-driven systems and reclaim what social media was meant to be. By applying human-centered design, we can create digital spaces that enrich, rather than exploit, our connections.
Acknowledgments
This article was inspired by reflections on the challenges of using social media to reconnect with old friends, as well as a January 2025 conversation with Kate McCusker at The Guardian on Gen Z's shift from phone calls to texting. I am grateful to Anna Cox and Sandy Gould for ongoing research collaborations and discussions.
References
1. Rheingold, H. The Virtual Community: Homesteading on the Electronic Frontier. Addison-Wesley, 1993.
2. Brown, B.A.T. and Perry, M. Why don't telephones have off switches? Understanding the use of everyday technologies: A research note. Interacting with Computers 12, 6 (2000), 623–634; https://doi.org/10.1016/S0953-5438(00)00027-8
3. Ahmetoglu, Y., Brumby, D.P., and Cox, A.L. To plan or not to plan? A mixed-methods diary study examining when, how, and why knowledge work planning is inaccurate. Proc. of the ACM on Human-Computer Interaction 4, CSCW3 (2021), Article 222, 1–20; https://doi.org/10.1145/3432921
4. Cox, A.L., Bird, J., Brumby, D.P., Cecchinato, M.E., and Gould, S.J.J. Prioritizing unread emails: People send urgent responses before important or short ones. Human- Computer Interaction 36, 5–6 (2020), 511–534; https://doi.org/10.1080/07370024.2020.1835481
5. Mark, G. Attention Span: A Groundbreaking Way to Restore Balance, Happiness, and Productivity. Hanover Square Press, 2023.
6. Mark, G., Voida, S., and Cardello, A. "A pace not dictated by electrons": An empirical study of work without email. Proc. of the SIGCHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems. ACM, 2012, 555–564; https://doi.org/10.1145/2207676.2207754
Author
Duncan P. Brumby is a professor of HCI at University College London and editor in chief of the International Journal of Human-Computer Studies. His research examines how digital tools shape human behavior, influencing how we work, connect, and find meaning in an increasingly digitized world. His recent work explores the role of generative AI in education and the limitations of voice user interfaces for assisting with everyday domestic tasks-research that earned a CHI 2024 Best Paper Award. [email protected]
This work is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution International 4.0.
The Digital Library is published by the Association for Computing Machinery. Copyright © 2025 ACM, Inc.
Post Comment
No Comments Found