Why Women Love to Hate Each Other on Social Media
And how we can all be a little bit nicer (?)
When aspiring influencer Sophia Cheung tragically fell off a cliff and died this past summer, the internet jumped on her “influencer” label and celebrated her death with snide remarks and cruel jokes. The shocking commentary around Cheung’s death is representative of a growing toxic practice online — that as we become increasingly connected to each other through social media, our empathy for each other seems to be waning. The practice of rooting for another person’s misfortune has become openly practiced on online — especially when that person is an influencer, and even more so when they are a woman.
“It’s still a career field that I think is not relatively understood,” says Brooke Erin Duffy, a communications professor at Cornell. “Like any feminized career field, it is seen as frivolous and therefore not taken seriously and not valued.’’ Instagram accounts like Influencers in the Wild and GOMIBLOG exist solely for the purpose of mocking such influencers. Ironically, Duffy’s research also found that the critics themselves, in many cases, also tend to be women. A growing fundamental distrust of influencers — and the insecurities that they bring out in other women — has led many to revel in any misfortune that befalls them. Is it possible that, behind the guise of collective female empowerment, women online are actually rooting for each other to fail?
The psycho-sociological concept of schadenfreude — extracting pleasure from someone else’s misfortune — is nothing new. The Japanese have a saying: “The misfortunes of others taste like honey,” while the French speak of joie maligne, a diabolical delight in other people’s suffering. More recently, a scientific MRI study of Red Sox and Yankee fans showed that they neurologically experienced the same amount of joy when their rivals lost as when their own team won. But as jealousy and envy have heightened with the dawn of social media, schadenfreude has become more widely practiced and severe, as users take joy in the failures of others through acts of public shaming. With “always on” content cycles, there isn’t much time or energy for introspection. During the group mentality of a social media pile-on, everyone enjoys the fun of participating, while no one feels even slightly responsible for any outcome. We hurt each other and then move on.
With their aspirational and enviable lifestyles, it’s understandable why many female influencers are often the target of such online hate. “Hate-following” — the practice of keeping online tabs on someone who you can’t stand — has ironically kept many followers engaged with these out of touch celebrities and self-aggrandizing influencers. Ninety percent of respondents in a Cosmo quiz admitted to doing so. Take the extravagant VIP List girls of TikTok, two Gen Z influencers who embody excess and privilege with their lavish NYC restaurant reviews on the app. The ladies behind the account, Meg Radice and Audrey Jongens, have racked up an enormous following with their aggressive, fast-paced, and somewhat obnoxious commentary.
This past fall, TikTok users took to parodying some of the VIP List’s most popular videos — lip-synching along to highlight their exaggerated voices and style. Many have criticized the women for flaunting their privilege and showcasing an elitist side of New York to which only the wealthy have access. But while their followers have suggested they try cheaper restaurants, the girls say those videos don’t perform as well as their more extravagant ones. “People want to see the really bougie stuff,” said Radice. “Or, at least, our audience does.”
One could argue these women exemplify the gentrification and high-class elitism that plagues NYC. But on the other hand — aren’t these women just reflecting the desires and interests of the general public? If these over-the-top videos are the ones garnering viral attention, one could argue they’re just following public interest. These influencers are quite literally just doing their job, upheld and supported by the advertising industry. They’re popular and successful for a reason — both because of the brands that support them, and all the people that follow them. Perhaps all the hate towards these female influencers is really a mirror to American culture and society — a society that still upholds a flawed interpretation of money, status, and consequently one’s self worth. Perhaps it’s a little bit self directed as well — a hatred towards ourselves for going along with it.
At the end of the day, we could all afford to be a little bit nicer to each other on social media. And instead of wasting energy attacking each other, maybe it’s time to critically examine the larger societal forces that placed us within these toxic social media relationships in the first place. Envy is a natural human emotion, but it has become radicalized with our constant social surveillance of each other. Women have more voice and influence than ever before, while also having never been under as much scrutiny. Perhaps we should consider stepping back a little from our online lives — both for ourselves and for others. We’re only human.
