Does social media make us… better people?

I’m smelling about Facebook Not long ago, when I came to the position of a stranger, I was doing the opposite of my own thing, which can be seen through a disconnected college friend. It begins with the word “warning”. My unfettered scrolling self reacted to such warnings like the teenagers in the movie reacted to the “danger” signs on the rusty barbed wire fence. I dropped my bike, turned the baseball cap backwards, and then entered the abandoned mine that I had been to.

“Warning,” the stranger wrote. “This article may become an incentive for the pregnancy/abortion community.” I don’t belong to either of these communities. When I click to read the entire story, I feel the sympathy pulse of social media is disturbed-partly goodwill, partly gossip.

But at the bottom of the mine, it was discovered that it was a surprise party with cakes and balloons. My stranger gave birth to a child after going through a lot of difficulties. I rearranged my mourning face into my congratulatory face, even though the two are actually the same scroll face, eager and blank at the same time. I went the wrong way, at a party where no one invited me to.

I have been following online warnings for some time.I even check the little red flag Netflix Place it at the entrance of each performance. (“Crude behavior” is my favorite.) The pregnancy announcement of a stranger is the first time I have seen a happy ending that warns others. On social media, we inevitably broke into other people’s lives. We set off fireworks at the funeral, so that people attending the funeral would like our fireworks. But strangers’ posts are completely alert to how we live in each other’s pockets today, and even on each other’s faces. It impressed me very much, very tactful.

I remembered an old story Betty White tells Regarding her late friend Grant Tinker, he visited her one afternoon in 1981 after he heard of her husband’s death. Tinker just attended a meeting, at which he learned that he would become the new chairman and chief executive officer of NBC. White recalled that he did not mention this impressive and life-changing change once during his visit. “I never forgot it,” White said. “What a good friend.”

Personally, we still know how to be elegant friends. But taking classes on social media is tricky. When the room is the size of a planet, no one will read the room. Therefore, as representatives of face-to-face elegance, we have warnings and disclaimers. We rely heavily on the acknowledgment sentence: “Of course…” A brief complaint is accompanied by an acknowledgment of a person’s general prosperity. A friend confessed to me, “Sometimes it feels like I am avoiding existence.”

Even algorithms are beginning to recognize the importance of tact. My online supermarket recently asked me, an orphan in his 40s, if he would stop receiving emails about Mother’s Day offers.Earlier this year, Twitter Introduced a feature This encourages people to reconsider possible harmful or insulting responses before sending. These “tips”, as the company calls it, rely on machines to parse the text, so they include feedback options: “Did we get it wrong?”

“Am I mistaken?” It could be an automatic banner at the bottom of everything we post. Regarding all the egoistic accusations of the so-called selfie generation, the main Freud element of the digital age can be said to be the superego—the disciplinary force of each of us to regulate our behavior according to social norms. Our superego is eager to get things done. Twitter tips are outsourcing of the superego, and the small warning sounds in our heads are externalized into a piece of code.