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The dystopia of watching Hurricane Milton unfold online

On one side of the internet, content creators and clout chasers used the natural disaster to entertain and engage. On the other, it triggered a surge in misinformation and conspiracy theories. While social media platforms function as a go-to news source for many, is this proof that things have gone too far?

Arriving just a fortnight after the misery brought about by Helene, Hurricane Milton tore through Florida last week, making landfall as a powerful Category 3 storm and spawning a barrage of deadly tornadoes.

Intensifying rapidly and dramatically, the record-breaking extreme weather event dumped rain across much of the state, caused major flooding, left millions without power, and claimed at least 16 lives.

But you already knew all of this, didn’t you?

In recent years, social media has become a go-to news source for many. As it stands, 54 per cent of Americans prefer their digital devices to television, radio, and print publications and 52 per cent get their updates not from trustworthy media outlets, but from TikTok.

These figures are only set to rise as technology (and our dependency on it) continues to advance.

@uva_society_behaviour News outlets need to be on social media #research #learnontiktok #explainer #news #socialmedianews ♬ original sound – UvA Society & Behaviour

And as platforms grow to dominate coverage alongside this, the way we keep up with what’s happening in the world is rapidly changing – made clear by the dystopia of watching Hurricane Milton unfold online.

While the natural disaster wreaked havoc, the internet was split in two.

On one side, recognising they’d ‘never have this many eyeballs on them ever again,’ (Rebecca Jennings wrote on X) content creators and clout chasers jumped at the opportunity to entertain and generate user engagement, staying put ‘for the plot’ – and for us click-happy netizens at home.

On the other, it triggered a surge in misinformation (stoked, of course, by Donald Trump) and conspiracy theories that it was either engineered by meteorologists or unleashed as a weapon by the government.

This raises the question: did Hurricane Milton spiral out of control or have we?

Disassociated from reality

Since the pandemic, things haven’t really been the same.

Mandated to isolate for months on end and with little else to do as a result, most of us saw our average screen time far-surpass the recommended daily amount as socialising, working, and everything-in-between was taken online.

During lockdowns, we adapted to existing virtually and, nearly half a decade later, there’s no denying that this stuck.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in how we consume news, with escaping the unremitting influx of appalling events taking place across the globe now an all but impossible feat.

Despite the benefits of being perpetually in the loop (knowledge is power after all), many of us are experiencing compassion fatigue whereby we’re numb to tragedy because we’re fed so much of it.

As a coping mechanism, an alarming number of people are switching off entirely, compounded by how social media tends to make light of serious matters through dark humour, memeification, and clout-chasing.

@mattfromhornblasters.com Do I go live for Milton? #florida #tampa #hurricane #milton #floridaman #flood #kayak #plantdad #weekend #hornblasters ♬ original sound – Matthew Heller

The latter reared its ugly head as Hurricane Milton raged on, with Floridian content creators leaping onto livestreaming the storm rather than running for safety.

In the name of entertainment, influencers risked drowning, electrocution, and being hit by flying debris to appease their followers and fill their pockets – simplified by algorithms that promote inflammatory videos and incentivise divisiveness, as well as dubious payment structures on TikTok and X which financially reward engagement bait.

‘A positive of this is you’re getting real-time, on-the-ground footage of what’s happening,’ communications expert, Krysten Stein, told CNN.

‘But what are the motivations behind posting such traumatic events? Are creators aiming to educate people about what’s going on, or to monetize their content?’

Given Caroline Calloway is one of the influencers who went most viral for ‘reporting’ on Hurricane Milton as it passed by her beachfront condo in Sarasota, that she plugged her next book simultaneously answers Stein’s question.

For all social media’s potential to offer valuable advice, information, and resources – and for people to help others – it sure seems to be bringing out the worst in us more often than not.

Particularly when you consider that choosing not to evacuate is essentially a luxury that few can afford.

‘If I were @tiktok_us right now, I would disable the features that allow “gifts” (basically cash tips) on their livestreams,’ wrote misinformation researcher, Abbie Richards, on X.

‘I’m watching people put themselves in serious danger on live, very much incentivized by financial gifts from strangers. Someone could die.’

As Richards highlights, not only is the commodification of catastrophe absurd and insensitive, but it’s also life-threatening.

Are we this disassociated from reality and unable to process the severity of human and planetary suffering that we can’t see that? That the best we can do is to laugh it off and move on?

Yes, doomscrolling is depressing, but if watching people deliberately put themselves in harm’s way for views is what alleviates that, then I’m sorry to burst your bubble but we’ve actually lost our minds.

@cbsnews “It’s undermining confidence in the people in Florida.” In a national address on Wednesday, President Biden condemned disinformation and conspiracy theories surrounding the federal response to Hurricanes Helene and Milton, calling them “reckless and irresponsible.” #news #HurricaneMilton #HurricaneHelene #Biden #weather #climate #FEMA ♬ original sound – cbsnews

Fake, fake, fake

Unfortunately, the madness doesn’t stop there.

Perhaps more eyebrow-raising than the entertainmentification of chaos that content creators seized upon, and that we lapped it up amid total devastation, were the swirling right-wing conspiracy theories that coincided.

Running rampant and fuelled by misinformation, one posited that Hurricane Milton was engineered by meteorologists, another – baselessly asserted by several of Trump’s closest allies – that it was unleashed as a weapon by the government to sway the upcoming presidential election.

The extent of the falsehoods was such that it stymied relief efforts, according to the Federal Emergency Management Agency (Fema).

‘I’ve never seen a storm garner so much misinformation, we have just been putting out fires of wrong information everywhere,’ said meteorologist, Katie Nickolaou.

‘I’ve had a bunch of people saying I created and steered the hurricane, there are people assuming we control the weather. I’ve had to point out that a hurricane has the energy of 10,000 nuclear bombs and we can’t hope to control that. But it’s taken a turn to more violent rhetoric, especially with people saying those who created Milton should be killed.’

Obviously, this is complete and utter nonsense – the continuation of a trend that’s seeing the public increasingly educated by extremist figures online as opposed to experts.

Besides the unnecessary hate that Nickolaou and her peers have been subjected to, as well as the political implications of spreading lies like this (I don’t have the heart to get into that today), my biggest concern is how many people are still believing in anything but the climate crisis.

Favouring outlandish ideas over the scientifically-proven fact that we’re exacerbating extreme weather by burning fossil fuels – which is driving the exceptionally high sea surface temperatures that give hurricanes more energy and make them more destructive –  it honestly feels like a massive joke at this point.

‘Even in a decade marred by online grifters, shameless politicians, and an alternative right-wing-media complex pushing anti-science fringe theories, the events of the past few weeks stand out for their depravity and nihilism,’ as Charlie Warzel aptly put it for The Atlantic.

‘As two catastrophic storms upended American cities, a patchwork network of influencers and fake-news peddlers have done their best to sow distrust, stoke resentment, and interfere with relief efforts.’

All of this being said, part of me does understand.

With the state of the world incomprehensibly, overwhelmingly bad right now, it’s tempting to retreat into delusion. It’s also arguably why the majority of us are responding with practically no empathy: because we’re tired, angry, and caring is too much strain on our already deteriorated mental health.

But if we have any hope of moving towards a future that prioritises our wellbeing and the Earth’s, we have to address how removed we are – how removed social media is making us.

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