Social media networks (SNS) were born with the promise of bringing people closer together, democratizing communication, and expanding exchanges. For a time, they seemed to fulfill that mission; they seduced us, left us awe-struck with every new feature, and gradually became indispensable.

However, the truth is that social media platforms are not designed with us, the users, in mind. Although they swear otherwise and seemingly do everything to unite us in a vast network, it is actually a business. While they are undeniably attractive and encourage us to build an alternate life online, many societal actors are now opening their eyes. It has become difficult to ignore a phenomenon that concerns scholars across psychology, sociology, and communications: dispute is one of the main drivers of digital interaction.

It is striking how life on social media is lived in state of constant conflict. People are at odds with one another; anyone can air an opinion, level a slanderous charge, or call for a boycott, and a vast crowd follows suit. In short, even a post of a cooking recipe can turn into a battlefield. It is as if people crave controversy and use social media to channel it without considering that everything carries consequences.

A strong hypothesis suggests that the algorithm rewards conflict. We see how it amplifies visibility, earning these platforms the label of "toxic spaces." Optimists might argue this is unfair because they value having greater access to information, support the rise of micro-communities, and recognize that social media has driven positive outcomes for social causes that previously lacked a voice.

It is true that everything in life has nuances, and we certainly do not wish to claim that social media is inherently evil. Of course not; that would be inconsistent. We merely aim to address the prevalence of confrontation and what we consider an inadequate management of algorithms and censors—a reality that exposes an uncomfortable truth about how human attention responds far more intensely to outrage, fear, and confrontation. Meanwhile, noble and kind sentiments are relegated to the background, as if human nature were entirely devoid of them.

If we analyze any post by a celebrity, politician, influencer, company, or media outlet, we often find an ecosystem where aggressiveness receives greater rewards than thoughtful reflection. That is undeniably unfair.

In psychology, there is a concept known as negativity bias, which refers to how the human brain processes threat-related stimuli faster than neutral, positive, or pleasurable ones. According to experts, this has an evolutionary and historical precedent: for thousands of years, detecting danger increased the chances of survival.

Digital platform algorithms did not invent this mechanism; they simply learned to exploit it.

Therefore, when a post generates a flood of angry responses, lengthy arguments, or heated clashes, the system interprets that the content keeps people engaged for longer. The algorithm assumes the responsibility of displaying it to more users; it does not distinguish whether the exchange enriches or degrades the conversation—it only measures engagement. In this way, conflict becomes profitable.

In this confrontational environment, a particular figure has recently gained notoriety: the troll, hater, or internet bully. Their goal is not to engage in reasoned debate, but to provoke, cause emotional distress, incite impulsive reactions, and dismantle any possibility of rational dialogue. Paradoxically, by responding with anger or engaging in the fight, many people end up reinforcing the very behavior they wish to combat.

It is a vicious cycle that is extremely difficult to break. The more noise a piece of content generates, the greater its visibility becomes; the more visible it is, the more people intervene out of outrage, teaching the algorithm that this type of conversation is what keeps audiences captive.

All of this occurs silently, almost without us realizing it. Before long, technological architecture quietly influences daily behavior, and its consequences transcend the digital world to affect us psychologically.

Constant exposure to hostility, even through a screen, fosters emotional fatigue, increases anxiety, and reduces the willingness to listen to differing viewpoints. Gradually, disagreement ceases to be viewed as an opportunity for reflection and becomes a personal threat.

Another consequence is how it alters the way we construct our identity. Among those most attached to social networks, many feel compelled to offer an immediate opinion on every matter, respond to every provocation, or constantly prove themselves right. Remaining silent, expressing doubt, or exercising prudence seem to lose value in the face of speed and assertiveness.

Nevertheless, even if the noise grows louder, we know—and hope—that quality social relationships, from simple interactions to broader societal bonds, do not thrive in discord, but through a minimum degree of intelligence and mutual understanding.

Every user is free to participate as they see fit in the digital landscape, as no one is here to lecture on etiquette. However, it is a different matter to engage without deliberate provocations, relying instead on verified information and civility. Acknowledging the legitimacy of disagreement may seem like a small act, but it carries a profound collective impact and is deeply human.

Social media does not define who we are, even if people act differently online than they do offline and succumb to herd mentality. We must remain aware that the algorithm prioritizes negative interactions. Once we realize this, we can choose to scroll past them and decide what truly deserves our attention, protecting ourselves from emotional distress and procrastination.

Technology has changed the way we communicate; the challenge now is to prevent it from eroding the quality of our coexistence. We must keep in mind that a society that loses the capacity for dialogue not only impoverishes its conversations, but also erodes one of the most valuable traits of the human condition: the ability to understand others, even when they think differently. We must learn to identify a system designed to maximize screen time rather than strengthen the social fabric.

Translated by Sergio A. Paneque Díaz / CubaSí Translation Staff