DIGITAL LIFE

The internet promised to unite us—but it's dividing us. Is there a way out?

When Tim Berners-Lee introduced the idea for the World Wide Web, his goal was simple and revolutionary: to create a tool capable of bringing people together, spreading knowledge, and strengthening democracy. Three decades later, what was supposed to be a global hub of collaboration has become a fragmented ecosystem, where groups isolate themselves, distrust each other, and fight over petty differences.

For a long time, we blamed digital bubbles and echo chambers—spaces where algorithms only show us what confirms our beliefs. But recent research challenges this simplistic explanation.

A 2022 study led by Dana Klisanin, a co-author of the article, tracked the behavior of ten social media users and found that people frequently seek out content they disagree with, sometimes intentionally.

This phenomenon, known as "rage engagement," generates profits for platforms—but destroys social cohesion. Every angry comment, every "rage share," fuels what researchers call affective polarization: the tendency to like those who think like us and hate those who think differently.

The economic engine of anger...The logic is simple: emotion generates engagement, and engagement generates profit. Posts that provoke outrage or fear attract more likes, reactions, and shares—and, therefore, more advertising.

According to the Washington Post, Facebook's algorithm has even valued an angry reaction five times more than a simple "like." Recent simulations have shown that any platform that measures success by engagement tends to favor divisive content because it keeps users clicking.

The attention economy, therefore, is based on rewarding conflict. And the more time we spend outraged online, the more valuable we become to the big tech business model.

On social media, we aren't just consumers of content: we are shaped by it. Studies show that we tend to adopt the opinions of influencers or friends we admire—even on topics that were previously indifferent to us. This dynamic creates what experts call "partisan sorting": groups that begin to diverge not just on one point, but across their entire worldview. And the effect is amplified when we seek complementary information, as search engines repeat the language of the original posts, reinforcing the same narratives.

Furthermore, when we are in a heightened emotional state, we are more vulnerable to misinformation—a powerful fuel for digital extremism.

The consequences are tangible. In countries like Australia, polarization fueled by online misinformation has already generated public costs related to mental health and safety, with extremist marches and minority events being threatened.

But there are signs of change: the average time spent on social media has been falling since 2022, according to the Financial Times. Many users are migrating to smaller, politically segmented platforms—like Bluesky (more to the left) and Truth Social (to the right). This doesn't resolve polarization, but it reveals a collective fatigue with the current model.

Is there another way?...Researchers suggest that active tolerance—that is, interacting with opposing views without hostility—can slow polarization. It's not about avoiding debate, but about disarming the anger algorithm: don't share provocative content, don't reward sensationalism, and, above all, cultivate digital empathy.

However, experts recognize that this is a structural problem that won't be solved by individual goodwill alone. Just as governments have regulated harmful products in the past, platforms can—and should—also be regulated and taxed.

Reshaping the internet economy to value balanced conversations over inflammatory clickbait may seem utopian, but it may be the only way to restore Berners-Lee's original dream: a truly connected web—not one divided by an algorithm.

mundophone