Tough Love for the Sudden Social Media Activist
The State of Social Media: Observations from an Addiction Counselor, October 2023
Dear friends,
I am saddened as I see the lack of discernment among us non-Jewish and non-Palestinian Americans during this time of humanitarian crisis.
- Yes — my non-Jewish and non-Palestinian colleagues, I am talking about us.
- I am disturbed.
Why do we assume our social media silence endorses death — that our most important task right now is “saying the right thing?” For fear of looking ignorant, many of us are compulsively posting dehumanizing and ignorant content without realizing our damaging impact.
If this is the first time you’ve considered the unbelievably complex conflict in the Middle East, now is the time to zoom out and seek an informed, balanced, and humanitarian-centered education.
I’ve supported Palestinian rights since I was 15 when my ‘Free Palestine’ advocacy led to bullying by teachers and students in high school. It later limited my ability to work for the government due to scrutiny of my activism. I hesitate to share that anecdote now, concerned it may come off as self-congratulatory or a shield against critique. It’s not. I grew up completely clueless about antisemitism and systemic racism.
As Americans, we have long been complicit with US imperialism, colonialism, and state-sanctioned death.
We must confront our complicity in systems of violence — including our tendency to view racism and antisemitism as unrelated issues; in truth, they are two sides of White Supremacy’s toxic coin. Racism and antisemitism co-evolved and are deeply intertwined. Now is the perfect moment for us to address both.
Instead, many of us are posting from a reactive and singular perspective. We are worsening White Supremacy — oblivious to the harm we are creating.
In the summer of 2020, a lot of white folks posted a black square on their social media accounts as a symbol of solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement:
They posted outrage about racism after seemingly discovering it for the first time. But how many of those individuals engage in liberatory action (outside of social media) today?
In the last week of October, my non-Jewish and non-Palestinian therapy clients expressed feelings of isolation, agitation, and increasing helplessness as they compulsively shared traumatic videos and memes.
Most of my clients were previously unaware of these conflicts. Still, they tell me they are disappointed by others’ reactions.
When I ask my clients what they hope to achieve, they become flummoxed. They admit to feeling righteous indignation, shame, and genuine confusion.
That is why, as an addiction counselor, I am very concerned. We are acting like addicts.
Unhealthy Coping
As an addiction counselor, I recognize maladaptive coping behaviors that provide momentary relief but ultimately increase suffering. My role is to guide people to healthier responses.
The impulse to share graphic content comes from profound distress. Helplessness in the face of injustice is excruciating. By numbing this pain with social media, we fail to confront its roots.
Whose life are you saving when you compulsively share videos of death?
Like addicts, we need to stop reacting and consider what the payoff is of sharing again and again.
Reckoning with injustice requires our capacity to sit with our discomfort — to acknowledge the hard truths we often avoid.
As Americans, we must grapple with our government’s harmful foreign policies. This is an opportunity for growth.
Invitations to Accountability
If you live in the United States, stop blaming the British.
The Israel-Palestine conflict isn’t a headline; it’s a heartache that spans decades, involving not just two communities but also international players. Yes, the U.K. had its role, but the U.S. has been deeply enmeshed in this for 75 years.
Pinning blame is a shortcut, not a solution.
The Israel-Palestine conflict can’t be reduced to social media soundbites or partisan perspectives. We have a responsibility to engage with the difficult truths that define this situation.
To bring about real change, we must examine the complexity of our own nation’s involvement, rejecting any simplistic narratives that stand in the way.
Resist the urge to assume others don’t care.
Instead, seek connection with communities advocating for justice. Grassroots organizations have been doing the vital work for decades — join them in solidarity. Channel your care into lasting impact.
Seek out conversation and connection — not just validation from social media.
If sharing traumatic content is your only response, pause to reflect.
Ask yourself: what need does this serve? Does posting give you a false sense of control and briefly ease guilt without real action?
Violence against our collective is unspeakably painful. It hurts. But false control won’t help.
Lean into uncertainty and heartbreak. Listen more; react less.
If this issue is new to you, sit with the discomfort of that realization.
Can you allow yourself to notice the gut punch feeling of ignorance without blasting your anger-shame at others?
Can you take this time to listen to others and learn without lecturing?
Do you have the courage to reach out to your American Jewish friends who may feel fearful and drained right now?
Avoid assumptions — many have dedicated lifetimes to humanitarian activism at significant personal cost. They need care and acknowledgment — not judgment and blame.
It’s outrageous for us anti-racist activists to turn our backs on American Jews — a group long at the forefront of progressive activism. They have fought tirelessly for civil rights, LGBTQ+ equality, an end to police violence, disability rights, and overall equity, frequently facing backlash for their efforts. Many were advocating for a two-state solution in Israel-Palestine while still in college.
But no one should have to credential themselves to justify their humanity. And too many reactive posts are terrifyingly insensitive and dehumanizing to American Jews.
Consider that:
- It is hypocritical to criticize anyone’s commitment to justice and human rights over an issue as complex as the Middle East.
- Reflect on your own record of activism and contribution to humanitarian causes.
- Many Jews are gripped by understandable terror at the rising fever pitch of antisemitism and feel the intergenerational trauma of thousands of years of persecution deep in their bones.
- If you have a marginalized identity, can’t you relate? Many of us are familiar with the exhaustion of endless trauma. Many of us know too well the feeling of being too tired and scared to act, and the futility of trying to prove our humanity to those who just don’t seem to care.
Advocates for justice must be vigilant against inadvertently spreading antisemitism and Islamophobia. Pause before sharing content — especially now — and consider how it could promote harmful stereotypes.
Can you sit with the reality that most “Zionists” in the USA are Christian?
(Pew Research: “More white evangelicals than American Jews say God gave Israel to the Jewish people.”)
As we advocate for human rights, let’s reflect on power dynamics closer to home. Christian dominance has confused us about the word “Zionism.” When we critique West Bank Israeli settlements and Palestinian occupation, we must critique Christian nationalism — not Jews.
In the United States, the intense political influence of Christian evangelical groups supports hardline policies in Netanyahu’s government — ones that fan the flames of violence.
And yes, you may not “identify as a Christian.” But if you live in this country and are not an ethnic and religious minority, you benefit from Christian dominance.
I invite you to consider how, at the heart of Christian Zionism is Christian nationalism, with no regard for Jews or Palestinians at all.
Can you take the time to fully absorb what you’ve learned before acting from a place of shame?
Can you listen to, attend, and center your Palestinian and Jewish friends?
Can you resist the knee-jerk impulse to repost everything you learn instantly?
Can you create space for their feelings and yours and let that teach you? Or are you unwilling to let the lesson settle into your body?
Perhaps you’d prefer to blast and project your shame on social media to “educate” your friends. If this is the first time you’ve considered our complicity in the horrors that have happened for decades to Palestinians (and for thousands of years to Jews), now is the time to pause and wonder why.
You say land acknowledgments and imagine that Native Americans are grateful. What are you doing right now to center the indigenous people who live within the communities YOU occupy?
So many of us in the United States feel shame about our continued occupation of stolen land and our history of Native American genocide; at times, we displace our shame by projecting it elsewhere because we can’t tolerate sitting with the realities we live in.
We cannot claim we are humanitarian if we justify mass killing.
Part of anti-oppressive practice is recognizing all humanitarian violations as unacceptable.
October 7 was a mass killing. Can we make space for the grief of all Jews and Israelis who have been suffering since Hamas launched the deadliest day for Jews since the Holocaust? In a single day, 1200 Israelis — primarily civilians — were murdered by members of an organization whose founding documents explicitly advocate for genocide.
Can we acknowledge reality without justifying or minimizing violence? We are all interconnected, and our collective body is suffering.
Humanitarianism is not a spectator sport where you pick a team to root for. It’s a moral imperative that demands we recognize the sacred value of every life.
Selective justice is a sham, a hollow pretense that corrupts the very essence of what justice should be — universal and unyielding.
Sharing videos of children dying again and again isn’t activism; it isn’t building awareness; it doesn’t save lives.
If that’s all you’re doing, you risk making yourself feel helpless and isolated from others.
You risk making yourself believe that no one cares because you are too ashamed to sit with the ignorance you previously had of what’s been happening for decades.
All American citizens were socialized to be ignorant. But today, you have control over how you allow consciousness to change you.
That discomfort and gut punch feeling is you waking up to important realities to expand to new horizons.
2–3 genocides are happening in the world right now- can you name where they are happening? Do you know about the genocides that occurred 2 years ago? Can you name them? Do they matter to you?
If you have “discovered” the Middle East conflict for the first time, this situation has been complex, inhumane, and troublesome for decades. This history goes back to the 1800s — can you allow yourself to take it in?
We can unite to embrace new learnings and possibilities when we reconnect — to ourselves, and to each other — free from blame and shame. We can reconnect from a place of responsibility.
But first, we must allow ourselves to feel the depth of our collective pain without resorting to addictive attack.
Take a Collective Deep Breath.
The first step is to detoxify yourself from the rush of social media righteousness. Consider taking a 3-day social media pause to ask yourself: Who am I truly helping right now? Who are we helping as a collective?
Righteous anger is justified, but don’t mistake it for genuine humanitarian action. Channel this energy toward meaningful change rather than merely proving no one else cares or proving others wrong. Remember, reactive posting often increases suffering — purposeful action creates change.
Believe it or not, there are millions who care. Yes, we are grieving, outraged, and in deep despair — but we are here, waiting for you.
We’re here for you. I believe in you. You’ve got this.
