Why I Don’t Like Twitter Planning To Get Rid of Likes

Why I Don’t Like Twitter Planning To Get Rid of Likes


This week, as well as tackling its usual challenges of Nazis, trolls and megalomaniac misogynists (and that’s just the White House), Twitter announced it is planning to get rid of the Like button in a bid to improve the quality of debate on the platform. And like many of my fellow Twitter obsessives, I believe this may be their worst idea since giving an account to Katie Hopkins. If you’ll grant me a little over 280 characters, I shall present my case for why Twitter’s heart should go on.

Let’s begin by returning to the birth of Twitter’s Like button. The year was 2015. Brexit was a new and interesting thing to talk about but it was never going to happen. Donald Trump was just that fat bloke off The Apprentice who was running for President (lol), but that was never going to happen. All our heroes were alive. These were simpler times.

Out of the blue (bird), Twitter decided to do away with the star button that used to live nextdoor to retweets and replace it with the heart-shaped Like. When they unveiled it, Twitter invited us to “show how you feel without missing a beat”. At the time, most of us thought this sounded rubbish and urged Twitter to abandon it immediately and stop pretending to be Facebook. But we were wrong. It was a great idea.

Now, three years later, Jack Dorsey and his crew want to change it again. And although they were right last time and we were wrong, this time we are definitely (probably) right and they are absolutely (probably) wrong. We like the Like button. Do we really like it? Is it, is it wicked? Yes. And we don’t want to give it back.

Twitter’s Like button performs many functions. When someone tweets about passing a driving test, giving birth or, say, successfully having a mole removed from their bum-cheek, a Like is a great way of saying “well done, mate” to them without having to actually write it. And while I accept that Twitter would prefer us to write a message to that person, thus improving the quality of conversation on the platform, I don’t particularly want to write a few moving words about the removal of a mole from the arse of someone I met once in a finance meeting. Giving it a Like is so much more appropriate. I know this is ‘social’ media, and debate is a hugely important part of it, but when it comes to responding to personal humblebrags, many of us agree with Ronan: you say it best when you say nothing at all. Or as @pandamoanimum puts it

A Like is the equivalent of walking past someone you sort of know on the street, or in the office, and giving them a little nod instead of having to have an actual conversation with them which would of course be awful. It’s a recognition without the fuss. Without it, we’d be thrust into all kind of awkwardness, like in the scene from Peep Show when Mark calls Sophie and finds himself singing: “And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like… I like you.”

The Like button is also a great way of saving a tweet to come back to. It’s the social media equivalent of putting a cigarette behind your ear for later like people used to do in gritty northern dramas. Using the Like to archive noteworthy content is a helpful thing even if, as @hansmollman points out, that content isn’t always entirely appropriate.

Tell you who else will suffer if the Like button gets the chop? Cute animals. That’s right, Twitter, think of all the adorable dogs and cats whose photos will no longer get decent engagement because Twitter users won’t be arsed to write “nice dog” and there will be no other option available. (except a retweet of course, but don’t be ridiculous – ain’t nobody retweeting your dog)

A Like is also a great way to end, or shut down, a conversation. If you find yourself batting, say, fish puns back and forth with someone but no longer wish to continue the game, a simple Like says: “Sir/Madam, this has been fun and congratulations on your razor-sharp fish banter. But please excuse me, I must return to Netflix (to watch Stranger Fins, obviously).”

Similarly, if you find yourself in a Twitter spat with someone and you no longer wish to argue with them or receive their abuse, a simple Like of their insult says: “Okay listen, mate. You may or may not have a point, but you need to shut up now cos this is getting boring and you are a tool. Go away.” What’s also great is that the Like confuses them in this context. Do you genuinely like that awful thing they just said to you? Or are you gathering it as evidence to report to the police? This can keep a troll distracted for up to two hours like a toddler with an iPad.

And if you’re lucky enough to receive some praise on Twitter for, say, a thing you wrote on LinkedIn about Likes on Twitter, a Like is a perfectly acceptable response if you’d prefer not to go full Gwyneth Paltrow. (“Oh thank you, but I never could’ve written the blog if it wasn’t for the support of my mum and five interns.”

A Like says “well done”, “thank you”, “go away”, “I’m sorry to hear that”, “that’s too kind”, “I’ll read you later” and so much more. It really is a wonderful thing.

And if you still need further evidence, take a look at Instagram. Lovely, friendly, cuddly old Instagram. The land of pet pics, holiday selfies and 94% of the world’s avocado toast. Everyone on Instagram is happy. And how do you give recognition to a post that pleases you on Instagram? That’s right, with a bloody Like.

But perhaps my real reason for being so against its removal is that, without Likes, my efforts to quietly insult George Galloway on an Easyjet flight last weekend would’ve been almost entirely ignored by humankind.

So if you’re reading this, Jack Dorsey, I urge you to reconsider. Because to slightly misquote the profound words of Paddy McGuinness on Take Me Out: ‘No Likey? No likey.’


















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