Is love losing its soul in the digital age?
INSTAGRAM users have taken to issuing “weekiversary posts”, where they diligently mark the duration of their romances.
An article in The New York Times explained how weekiversary posts have the unintended – or very much intended – consequence of shaming people who are not in love.
It also noted that this phenomenon makes some doubt the intensity of their own relationship. They wonder why their partners are not similarly starry-eyed and gushing online. Some even admitted that this phenomenon prompted them to stay in relationships longer than they should have: they go on celebrating their weekiversaries, just to keep up appearances.
In truth, this could apply to any of the social media platforms, where people increasingly feel the need to act their lives in real time in a public format, documenting every event and incident, no matter how remarkable or mundane.
So what does the brave new culture of digital sharing say about love – that many are compelled to live their romances aloud, in detailed fashion?
On one hand, there is nothing new here. Most of us seek the approval of others – even before our own, sometimes. Others’ approval, or their envy, makes our joy sweeter.
Philosopher Jean Jacques Rousseau recognised something like this when he distinguished between “amour de soi” and “amour propre” – two different forms of self love. The former is love that is instinctual and not self-reflective. Rousseau described it as “presocial” love – being unconcerned with what other people think of you and loving yourself unconditionally, without judgment.
Society, which complicates our lives irredeemably, introduces amour propre. This is self-love mediated through the eyes and opinions of others. Amour propre, in Rousseau’s theory, is hollow and flimsy. The opinions and judgment of others change rapidly and do not make for a firm foundation for honest, enduring and confident self-love.
So, are weekiversary posts for one’s lover at all? Or are they just one’s way of satiating the need for approval and stoking the envy of online witnesses?
Philosopher Paul Ricoeur argued that humans have an inherent need to view their lives in a narrative fashion. This is a prime way in which a person makes sense of his or her world.
Specifically, one aims to project a narrative structure onto life, and give it a beginning, a climax and, hopefully, a fitting conclusion. The individual also wishes to situate his life story within a greater narrative, be it social, historical or cosmic. Social media gives us newfound powers to curate the story of our lives, and if need be, change characters, dominant plot lines or background themes, how and when we like. In documenting everyday events and occurrences, we could even elevate them and lend them a degree of significance.
So, it might seem perfectly natural that people would like to narrate their budding romances. But social media is not designed for introspection or soul-searching: Posts must be relatively short, eye-catching and declarative. Twitter emissions only tolerate 280 characters. Ambiguity has no place there. Social media isn’t the place to hash through a host of conflicting emotions. You are either in love, or you are not – and if you are in love, why declare it if it isn’t blissful?
Negative posts tend to lose followers – and many people want to keep up their viewership. The legal scholar Bernard Harcourt argued that social media sharing evokes the great American tradition n of entrepreneurshi ip.
From this perspe ective, in issuing weekiver rsary posts, individuals area creating an identity an nd a story – a brand – th hat they can market widely. y.
It’s hard to see howh this phenomenon contr ributes to or makes for last ting and fulfilling relationships. At some point, all the affirmation one needs should come from your lover.
There is an understandable need for young lovers to pronounce their joy in public. But love, when it matures, does not live publicly.
Love is largely a private relationship and demands intimacy.
Only in intimacy does the inherent ambiguity or complexity of love emerge. Only in intimacy are you and your partner fully seen and known, with all your shortcomings or contradictions – and they are forgiven.
It is in these intimate moments that lovers learn to tolerate ambiguity, negotiate differences and endure.