Twitter as the embodiment of the American ethos

In the nerdy corners of the internet where I spend time, Twitter has become the dominant platform for intellectual discourse. Using Tyler Cowen’s daily link posts as a proxy—the go-to hub of content for those in my circle—now typically features a majority of links going to Twitter. But something about Twitter’s dynamics has always felt off to me, and I think I’ve finally put my finger on it: Twitter is the embodiment of the American ethos.

The Insanity of Internet Content

To explain this, please allow me to take you on a brief detour through one of my favourite platforms for intellectual discourse, reddit.com/r/slatestarcodex. By far the most popular post on the /r/slatestarcodex subreddit is Most of What You Read on the Internet is Written by Insane People by a user named DinoInNameOnly. The post argues that the vast majority of online content is produced by a tiny group of highly unusual individuals. Citing the 1% rule, DinoInNameOnly suggests that only 1% of internet users create content, while the other 99% merely consume it.

This post went viral, transcending **/r/slatestarcodex** and spreading across various subreddits, Twitter, blogs, and even mainstream platforms like LinkedIn. 

The Twitter Exception

However, Twitter is an exception to this rule. Unlike most platforms, where content creation is dominated by highly unusual people, Twitter manages to engage “normal” people—those who don’t typically produce online content—by offering them an attractive reward: status and influence.

Consider DinoInNameOnly, the author of the viral post. Despite the article going viral, he remains just “some random person” with a Reddit account. He or she doesn’t have a website or a blog; they gained no tangible profile or benefits from this hugely successful post. On Twitter, an article of this magnitude could have been a life-changing break—worth thousands and thousands of followers, and a springboard for significant social advancement. Yet by posting on Reddit, they remain in the same position as before, just some person.

Reddit: A Hub for Intellectual Discourse

Reddit, particularly **/r/slatestarcodex**, is, in my opinion, one of the best hubs of intellectual discourse on the internet. Literally, the smartest person I’ve ever met was a random poster on **/r/slatestarcodex**. Many of my favourite bloggers started out there, including:

In more political spaces, bloggers like Tracing Woodgrains and Cremieux Recueil were long-time **/r/slatestarcodex** posters before branching out on their own and becoming well-known public intellectuals.

Despite Reddit’s intellectual richness, I only know of two notable public intellectuals—Scott Alexander and Gwern—that actually post on Reddit. This is telling because Scott and Gwern are as brilliant as it gets, and also two of the purest, least status-oriented people I can think of. Their engagement with **/r/slatestarcodex** suggests the subreddit has genuine intellectual merit. 

Status: Twitter vs Reddit

My theory is that high-status people, those who dominate Twitter, don’t post on Reddit because there’s little benefit for them. On Reddit, no matter how famous you are, you’re treated like any other user—there’s no guaranteed audience, and your ideas are likely to be ignored or criticized. This is in stark contrast to Twitter, where if you do well, you gain more power and influence. For a well-followed poster, every time you post—you always have an audience inherently sympathetic to your views—in addition to many people who will engage with you, not necessarily because they like your content, but because they know they can gain socially by mooching off your status. 

Reddit focuses on ideas and discussion, where identity is secondary, and the platform’s structure doesn’t encourage personal branding. On Reddit, you’re posting because you want to discuss ideas. On Twitter, you’re posting to make yourself feel great about yourself or to build a brand. This difference highlights why Twitter is so appealing to those who crave status and influence. 

I must admit, I feel significant envy of micro-Twitter influencers. Posters with as few as 10,000 followers seem to be reaping mind-blowing levels of social, career, and even romantic benefits from their online presence.

Yet, this is also what makes Twitter so unsettling to me. The platform’s transactional, status-oriented culture feels off-putting. Many users seemingly are there not out of a pure love of posting or engaging with ideas, but to climb the social ladder, often resorting to performative interactions—sucking up to others or clouding their real thoughts to post what is essentially clickbait.

Twitter as a Microcosm of American Culture

I’m in the process of moving from Canada to the USA, and as I prepare for the move, I’ve been grappling with the cultural differences between the two countries. One of the most striking contrasts is the American obsession with status and hierarchy. In the U.S., it’s not just accepted but expected that higher-status individuals receive better treatment in society. There’s an acceptance of relentless self-promotion, boasting, and constantly striving to rise to the next social group, which doesn’t seem to exist outside of the USA.

Twitter, in many ways, is a digital reflection of this American ethos. It’s a platform where self-promotion is the norm, where the pursuit of status and power is baked into the very structure of interaction. Twitter attracts users who don’t just want to discuss ideas—they want to be elevated, admired, and to “make it” to the top. 

Twitter is a microcosm of the American ethos—a place where the rich rule, and everyone else is scrambling to climb to the top. It embodies the values of self-promotion, social climbing, and the relentless pursuit of status that define American culture. In this sense, Twitter isn’t just a platform; it’s America in digital form.

This realization clarifies why I’ve always felt uneasy about Twitter and why Twitter seems to be so dominated by American posters. It’s not just about the platform’s structure or its content—it’s about what it represents: a digital manifestation of a culture where status is king, and everything else is secondary.