Elon Musk’s proposed takeover of the social networking service Twitter has been one of the biggest news stories of the last few weeks. It’s not hard to understand why. Musk is one of the world’s most recognizable (and wealthiest) business moguls, and Twitter is arguably the most controversial platform on the Internet. The two would seem to be an ideal match, but there has been a snag—the issue of “free speech.”
As is well known, Twitter has sought to limit “disinformation” in recent years. For a service that already allows users to participate under multiple identities, this decision has been met with more than a little skepticism. Still, Twitter has claimed the moral “high ground.” Famously, in the wake of the “1/6/21 riot” at the U.S. Capitol, Twitter banned President Donald Trump from using the service. This move established a precedent: Should a public figure promote ideas that seemingly pose a threat to civic safety, Twitter, qua private enterprise, has the right to “deplatform” her. In the case of Trump, particularly in the aftermath of the riot, there was a general sense that Twitter had done the responsible thing. Yet, additional bans have followed and, with them, the removal of people who criticize or question leftwing public policy. As a result, Twitter has been censured for limiting the free exchange of ideas. This matter reached a crescendo in December 2021, when American biochemist and medical doctor Robert Malone was deplatformed for raising doubts about the COVID-19 vaccines and the leadership of NIAID director Dr. Anthony Fauci. Given Malone’s standing—he was the first to write, in January 1988, that it might be possible “to treat RNA as a drug”—this decision set off a firestorm. But Twitter was resolute, publishing a statement about “COVID-19 misleading information”:
You may not use Twitter’s services to share false or misleading information about COVID-19 which may lead to harm.
Even as scientific understanding of the COVID-19 pandemic continues to develop, we’ve observed the emergence of persistent conspiracy theories, alarmist rhetoric unfounded in research or credible reporting, and a wide range of false narratives and unsubstantiated rumors, which left uncontextualized can prevent the public from making informed decisions regarding their health, and puts individuals, families and communities at risk.
Content that is demonstrably false or misleading and may lead to significant risk of harm (such as increased exposure to the virus, or adverse effects on public health systems) may not be shared on Twitter. This includes sharing content that may mislead people about the nature of the COVID-19 virus; the efficacy and/or safety of preventative measures, treatments, or other precautions to mitigate or treat the disease; official regulations, restrictions, or exemptions pertaining to health advisories; or the prevalence of the virus or risk of infection or death associated with COVID-19.
Here again Twitter cast itself as a defender of the public good, but this time there was more pushback. Several Republican congressmen threatened to hold “Big Tech accountable” for its alleged violation of free speech rights—a charge that gained at least some credence when it became clear that the COVID-19 vaccines, while still a critical part of mitigation efforts, were not as effective as originally hoped. Some wondered if Malone’s reservations, which gained an extensive audience on Joe Rogan’s podcast, were at least deserving of a hearing.
It was around this time that Elon Musk entered the controversy. First, in late January 2022, he began buying up shares of Twitter. Soon, he intensified his criticism of Twitter on Twitter. For example, Musk tweeted on March 25 that “Free speech is essential to a functioning democracy,” adding a poll question, “Do you believe Twitter rigorously adheres to this principle?” There were over two million responses to Musk’s poll, and 70% voted “no.” By the first week of April, Musk’s ownership stake in Twitter was up to 9%, and he was offered a seat on the company’s board. But Musk declined, his eyes on a bigger prize. On April 14, Musk presented a bid to buy Twitter for 43 billion dollars. A takeover seemed imminent, but Twitter’s board of directors quickly and shrewdly countered with a “poison pill” strategy, hoping to diminish Musk’s ownership interest in Twitter. But it didn’t work. Earlier today, it was announced that Musk had prevailed, finally agreeing to buy Twitter for a reported 44 billion dollars.
What’s interesting about this financial standoff is how it has triggered a philosophical misunderstanding. The issue, we’re told, is “free speech.” For pundits on the Right, Musk’s takeover of Twitter promises to guarantee free speech in today’s “public square.” Indeed, this is precisely how American society should work: when people with power invest their money and effort into securing freedom for others, everyone wins. Meanwhile, on the Left, Musk’s actions have been decried as both dangerous to public safety and, paradoxically, as restrictive to free speech. As with so many “culture war” debates, the two sides seem to be advocating for the same thing from an opposing point of view. Curiously, no one appears to be wondering if such confusion hasn’t been fomented by Twitter itself.
In each side’s rush to “save” Twitter, few are asking whether or not Twitter is worth saving. This is a complex question, which obviously cannot be settled in a single post. With this in mind, I just want to toss out a few preliminary observations. First, Twitter is not and cannot be “free speech.” Famously, Twitter’s format limits the amount of characters (280) that can be used. It is, by definition, limited speech. Second, this is one reason why Twitter does not match the “public square” metaphor frequently bandied about. The Lincoln-Douglas debates took place over a couple of months; a Tweet can be fired off in a couple of seconds. Twitter, quite literally, does not support a leisurely and unfettered exchange of ideas, as one would expect of a long-form, in-person conversation. Here there is also an implicit question about the nature and purpose of “freedom.” Is freedom only from something? Or might it also be for something? With regard to the former, it may be true that Musk is securing a more “free” version of Twitter. But it’s something else entirely to suggest that Musk’s Twitter might actually prepare people to be free—free to live well, to become virtuous, to build community.
After all, as Marshall McLuhan once put it, “the medium is the message.” Sure, with Musk in charge, people might be able to say things that they could not say in January 2022. But that’s just content. The question is: to what extent can Twitter, qua digital communicative medium, foster true freedom and facilitate truly free speech? This is a question that cannot be decided in 280 characters and, doubtless, never will be.
Sharp analysis here, thanks much.
"First, Twitter is not and cannot be “free speech.” .... quite literally, does not support a leisurely and unfettered exchange of ideas, as one would expect of a long-form, in-person conversation."
Within my denomination, many "very-online" users of Twitter and Facebook to advocate polemical positions like the analogy between the technological developments which catalyzed the Reformation and the use of social media in our present age: as Gutenberg was for Luther, so goes the analogy, Zuckerberg and Dorsey have done for "our" reformation protests. Your blog post today helped me think about that (even as "freedom from and freedom for" is also an important dialectic for Luther on freedom).
The way I've tended to think about it, and your observation about the intrinsically limited speech of Twitter to its 24 characters, is that social media has also "commodified" freedom so that every tweet, post, etc. is itself the imprint of the business model that monetizes the algorithm. And once you've got that perspective clear, then the dialectical tension is the relationship between commodity and, as you've put in your post, the building of character and community. Thanks again.