Of course, creativity often thrives in very specific formats for digital platforms. The six-second Vine videos are perhaps the most famous example of innovation under severe creative constraints. In recent years, the rapid technical uptake and endless experimentation of TikTok creators has shown that extraordinary things can be created using a relatively narrow set of features. As for writing, perhaps brevity is really the key: some research suggests we were all much better at Twitter in the 140-character days.
But the limitations on today’s web aren’t just about what our tools encourage us to do on a technical level – they’re also about what’s out there. Likes, more broadly, to use the platform. “In the old Internet I used as a teenager, restrictions were the tools,” DeVito says. “Could you make a viral video in 1996? No, we didn’t have the technology and infrastructure to distribute that video. For a one-minute video, you’d spend two days uploading it, and nobody would have a connection to download it. Systems didn’t provide that kind of expression.” “.
But today, as I’ve made clear, the technical limitations are joining limitations with things like moderation and audience. If I post something, will the platform allow it to stay? And if it continues, will this content expose you to harassment from other users? She gives the example of trans creators, whose art depicting themselves or their friends is often a particular target of both platform moderators and harassment from other users. “This is starting to feel like a much bigger limitation,” she says. “Because you have all these tools to build things, and you have a system that tells you, ‘Your expression is not welcome here.'” That’s not necessarily what they’re trying to say, but it’s how I feel every time.”
Online content creation today is closely related to these social components. DeVito talks about shifting creators closing accounts or reverting to private digital spaces to share their work in a safer environment, mirroring behavior seen in many communities across the web in recent years, as users move from large free-for-all platforms like Tumblr and Twitter to shut down sites like Discord, or even leaving the online world entirely. For DeVito, the question of whether current internet users will know what to do with open spaces seems off point: “I think if Gen Z needs to go back to old-school tools, they’ll figure it out in less than a day and improve it,” she says. “They are smart.” But existing spaces, she explains, are known quantities: flawed but clearly defined, users collectively sharing how to navigate safely. “In this scenario, it wouldn’t be that we don’t know how to create,” she says. “It would be that we don’t know how to protect ourselves.”
the present moment It seems like an inflection point for digital platforms across the web — beyond the woes of Twitter, there’s a sense that people are trapped, even as they’re unsure what better spaces to create and connect might look like. Watching discussions about any possible alternative to Twitter, it’s easy to see competing — and sometimes diametrically opposed — wants and needs. Compare, for example, those who want smaller, more controlled conversations in decentralized spaces with creators who have built careers on expansive, sharing-based sites. The technical friction points that join a Mastodon instance are insurmountable barriers for some – and central draws for others. Content policies in other proposed Twitter alternatives may limit hate speech but also penalize people who speak out about sex and sexuality. No platform will solve everyone’s problems – but right now it often seems like our existing platforms don’t solve anyone’s problems.