Meowdas

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[matstudent]

Week 12 | Crowdsourcing in Times of Crisis

what if social media could actually help save lives during a disaster?

When people talk about social media, most of the time the conversation is about entertainment, trends, or wasting time scrolling. Before this week, I honestly never thought much about how digital platforms could become important tools during emergencies. However, learning about crowdsourcing during crises made me realise that online communities can sometimes play a surprisingly important role in helping people respond to disasters in real time.

Video: Celebrity pleas spark massive bushfire donations, Pink chips in | Australian bushfires

One case that stood out to me was the Australian Bushfires (2019–2020), often referred to as the “Black Summer” bushfires. The fires destroyed homes, wildlife habitats, and entire communities across Australia, while emergency responders faced major difficulties coordinating information and support during rapidly changing conditions.

What I found especially interesting is how ordinary people became active participants during the crisis through both information-sharing and crowdfunding efforts. Rather than relying only on official news or government updates, community members used digital platforms to share live information about fire locations, evacuation routes, road closures, emergency needs, and fundraising efforts. Platforms such as Facebook, Twitter/X, GoFundMe, and emergency mapping tools became important spaces for communication and coordination.

Community coordination and emergency information sharing during the Australian Bushfires, 2020.

Riccardi (2016) argues that crowdsourcing during crises can improve communication and help communities respond more effectively by producing real-time information. I think the Australian Bushfires show this clearly because social media was not only spreading information but also helping people organise practical support. Large-scale fundraising campaigns spread rapidly online, while communities raised money for affected families, volunteer firefighters, and wildlife rescue organisations. This showed how digital participation can quickly translate into real-world action during crises.

At the same time, this topic also made me think about the risks of crowdsourcing. Social media can spread misinformation just as quickly as useful information, especially during high-stress situations. False evacuation updates or unverified claims could easily create confusion. This made me realise that digital citizenship matters during emergencies too, because sharing information responsibly becomes extremely important when people’s safety is involved.

What stood out to me most this week is that digital communities are not only spaces for interaction or entertainment. During crises, they can become systems of cooperation where ordinary people actively contribute to helping others. This week genuinely changed how I think about social media because it showed that online participation can sometimes have very real consequences offline.

References

Riccardi, M. 2016, ‘The power of crowdsourcing in disaster response operations’, International Journal of Disaster Risk Reduction, vol. 20, pp. 123–128.

Australian Red Cross 2020, Australian Bushfire Disaster Relief and Recovery, viewed May 2025, https://www.redcross.org.au.

YouTube 2020, Celebrity pleas spark massive bushfire donations, Pink chips in | Australian bushfires, viewed May 2025, https://youtu.be/EMUxmNTywjI.

#mda20009 #crowdsourcing #AustralianBushfires #digitalcommunities #crisisresponse #digitalcitizenship

[matstudent]

Week 11 | Digital Citizenship and Conflict: Social Media Governance

who actually decides what you are allowed to say online?

Before this week, I honestly never thought too deeply about who controls what we see online. Social media often feels like an open space where anyone can post opinions, speak freely, and share content. But after learning about social media governance, I realised platforms are constantly making decisions about what gets removed, promoted, hidden, or even quietly ignored. That made me start questioning how much control users actually have online.

One thing that stood out to me this week is how normalised online harassment has become. According to the Anti-Defamation League (ADL 2023), more than half of adults have experienced some form of online harassment. When I first read that statistic, it honestly felt alarming because harassment online sometimes feels so common that people almost treat it as a normal part of internet culture rather than something serious.

Haslop, O’Rourke and Southern (2021) found that many university students have become so used to online harassment that they often stop reporting it or simply learn to tolerate it. What I found especially concerning is that female students reported higher rates of harassment and had less confidence that reporting systems would actually solve anything. Reading this made me realise how platform systems are not only about protecting users but also about whether people trust those protections enough to even use them.

Creator discussing algorithmic suppression or shadowbanning on Reddit & X, 2024.

Another part of this topic that really caught my attention was the idea of coordinated online harm. Marwick and Caplan (2018) discuss how communities connected to the manosphere often spread misogynistic ideas while avoiding moderation systems through coded language and organised behaviour. This made me think more critically about how harmful online spaces continue to grow despite moderation policies supposedly being in place.

Duffy and Meisner (2022) also introduce the idea of algorithmic invisibility, where creators, particularly those from marginalised communities, feel their content becomes quietly suppressed without clear explanations. Before this week, I mostly assumed social media feeds were neutral, but this topic made me realise platforms actively shape visibility and influence who gets heard online.

What stood out to me most this week is that digital citizenship is not only about behaving responsibly online. It is also about understanding who holds power, questioning platform decisions, and thinking critically about whether digital spaces are actually fair for everyone. Social media governance affects users more than many people probably realise, even when those decisions happen quietly in the background.

References

ADL 2023, Online Hate and Harassment: The American Experience 2023, Anti-Defamation League, viewed May 2025, https://www.adl.org/resources/report/online-hate-and-harassment-american-experience-2023.

Duffy, B.E. & Meisner, C. 2022, ‘Platform governance at the margins: social media creators’ experiences with algorithmic (in)visibility’, Media, Culture and Society, vol. 45, no. 2, pp. 285–304.

Haslop, C., O’Rourke, F. & Southern, R. 2021, ‘#NoSnowflakes: the toleration of harassment and an emergent gender-related digital divide in a UK student online culture’, Convergence, vol. 27, no. 5, pp. 1418–1438.

Marwick, A.E. & Caplan, R. 2018, ‘Drinking male tears: language, the manosphere, and networked harassment’, Feminist Media Studies, vol. 18, no. 4, pp. 543–559.

#mda20009 #digitalcitizenship #socialmediagovernance #onlineharassment #shadowbanning #manosphere #platformpower

[matstudent]

Week 10 | Gaming Communities, Social Gaming and Live Streaming: Twitch

what does it actually mean to watch someone else play video games for hours?

Honestly, I used to think Twitch made no sense. Why spend hours watching someone else play when you could just play the game yourself? But after spending more time understanding the platform, I realised people are often not there only for the game. They are there for the community.

Twitch has grown into one of the biggest live-streaming platforms, attracting millions of viewers every day. What surprised me most is that some of the most popular categories are not even gaming-related. “Just Chatting”, where streamers simply talk to viewers in real time, consistently attracts huge audiences. This suggests that Twitch is less about watching gameplay and more about shared experiences and social interaction.

Taylor (2018) argues that Twitch should be understood as a platform centred around participation and performance rather than passive viewing. Unlike YouTube videos, Twitch streams happen live, meaning audiences can interact instantly through chat, respond to events together, and even influence what happens during the stream. I think this live interaction explains why people become emotionally attached to certain streamers and communities.

Reddit users discussing what Twitch communities mean , 2024.

Keogh (2021) helps explain this through the idea that gaming communities are built around shared participation and social value, not only entertainment. Twitch communities often develop inside jokes, shared language, and routines that make viewers feel like they belong somewhere. Even if someone joins alone, they can quickly feel part of a wider community.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CmNLV-LPnc2/

At the same time, Twitch is not always a positive space. Gaming communities have faced criticism for problems such as harassment, racism, and misogyny, particularly towards women streamers and marginalised creators. Research by the Anti-Defamation League (ADL 2023) found that many gamers have experienced some form of online harassment, showing that digital communities can also become exclusionary and hostile.

What stood out to me this week is that Twitch communities seem to blur the line between entertainment and social connection. People are not simply watching content. They are building relationships, routines, and spaces where they feel recognised. While Twitch can sometimes reproduce toxic online behaviour, it also demonstrates how digital communities can create genuine belonging across different countries, cultures, and time zones.

References

ADL 2023, Online Hate and Harassment: The American Experience 2023, Anti-Defamation League, viewed May 2025, https://www.adl.org/resources/report/online-hate-and-harassment-american-experience-2023.

Keogh, B. 2021, ‘The Melbourne indie game scenes: value regimes in localized game development’, in P. Ruffino (ed.), Independent Videogames: Cultures, Networks, Techniques and Politics, Routledge, pp. 209–222.

Taylor, T.L. 2018, ‘Broadcasting ourselves’, in Watch Me Play: Twitch and the Rise of Game Live Streaming, Princeton University Press, Princeton, pp. 1–23.

#mda20009 #Twitch #livestreaming #gamingcommunities #socialgaming #digitalcommunities #participatoryculture

[matstudent]

Week 9 | Digital Citizenship and Software Literacy: Instagram Filters

- have you ever taken off a filter and felt weirdly disappointed by your own face?

I honestly have. And I think that small, strange feeling is worth thinking about rather than just scrolling past.

AR beauty filters have become so normal on Instagram and Snapchat that it is easy to forget how much they shape the way people see themselves. Snapchat introduced face filters in 2015, and within a few years, similar features became part of almost every major social media platform. What started as playful effects has increasingly shifted into beauty-enhancing filters that smooth skin, reshape facial features, and subtly change appearances.

Barker (2020) describes filters as a form of “digital adornment”, similar to makeup or fashion, where users experiment with self-expression and identity. I can understand that perspective because filters can genuinely be fun and creative. At the same time, Barker (2020) also warns that beautifying filters are not neutral tools. Many are designed around narrow beauty ideals by enlarging eyes, sharpening jawlines, smoothing skin, and changing facial proportions in ways that quietly suggest what is considered more attractive.

Users discussing the emotional impact of beauty filters on Twitter/X, 2024.

This connects closely to Rettberg’s (2014) idea of “filtered reality”, which argues that technology is never fully neutral because digital tools are designed with particular assumptions and values built into them. Although filters can feel like personal choices, they are still shaped by platform design and broader beauty standards. What people see as an “improvement” online is often influenced by algorithms and software decisions that users rarely think about.

Coy-Dibley (2016) extends this discussion through the concept of “digitised dysmorphia”, where repeated exposure to edited or filtered images can distort how people perceive themselves offline. This became especially concerning to me because the pressure is no longer only about looking good online. Research has shown increasing numbers of cosmetic surgery patients requesting procedures to resemble their filtered images, a trend commonly referred to as “Snapchat dysmorphia” (Central Recorder 2023).

What stood out to me most this week is that software literacy is not only about knowing how to use digital tools. It is also about understanding how those tools shape behaviour, expectations, and even self-esteem. Before this week, I rarely questioned why certain filters made me feel better about my appearance. Now, I think the more important question is who designed these filters, what beauty standards they reflect, and why they can sometimes make real life feel slightly disappointing by comparison.

References

Barker, J. 2020, ‘Making-up on mobile: the pretty filters and ugly implications of Snapchat’, Fashion, Style and Popular Culture, vol. 7, no. 2–3, pp. 207–221, doi:10.1386/fspc_00015_1.

Central Recorder 2023, ‘“Instagram Face”: the unrealistic beauty standards of social media filters’, viewed May 2025, https://centralrecorder.org/78265/opinion/instagram-face-the-unrealistic-beauty-standards-of-social-media-filters/.

Coy-Dibley, I. 2016, ‘“Digitised dysmorphia” of the female body: the re/disfigurement of the image’, Palgrave Communications, vol. 2, art. 16040, doi:10.1057/palcomms.2016.40.

Rettberg, J.W. 2014, ‘Filtered reality’, in Seeing Ourselves Through Technology: How We Use Selfies, Blogs and Wearable Devices to See and Shape Ourselves, Palgrave Macmillan, London.

#mda20009 #instagramfilters #ARfilters #digitalcitizenship #softwareliteracy #beautystandards #filteredreality #digitiseddysmorphia

[matstudent]

Week 8 | Body Modification, Health and Visual Social Media

so when did wanting to look a certain way become a group project?

I was scrolling Instagram a few months ago and noticed something that genuinely made me pause for a second. A bunch of people I follow, who have completely different personalities, lifestyles, and friend groups, somehow all started looking strangely similar. Same nose. Same lips. Same face shape. Not identical exactly, but close enough that it felt weirdly noticeable.

And it made me wonder: where does this actually come from?

This week really made me think about how much of what we call “personal preference” might not actually be as personal as we think. Researchers like Carah and Dobson (2016) describe this as an aesthetic template, where certain beauty standards get repeatedly amplified through social media until they become normalised and aspirational. Platforms like Instagram do not just display beauty ideals. They actively shape them through visibility, algorithms, and engagement.

The more certain faces get rewarded with likes, reach, and attention, the more those features start feeling desirable to everyone else.

This becomes especially visible when we talk about body modification. Cosmetic procedures are increasingly tied to social media culture, with people now walking into consultations showing surgeons influencer photos and asking for specific features. Dorfman et al. (2018) found that plastic surgery hashtags on Instagram have become both a marketing tool and an informal information space where users learn about procedures, recovery, and results. At first, that sounds empowering because people have more access to information. But at the same time, it raises an uncomfortable question: if everyone is inspired by the same images, how much choice is actually happening?

Duffy and Meisner’s (2022) work on algorithmic visibility helps explain why this keeps happening. Their research found that platforms tend to reward certain aesthetics and types of content while quietly making others less visible. If only certain appearances are constantly pushed onto people’s feeds, eventually those appearances start to feel like the standard. And when something becomes the standard, it becomes harder not to compare yourself against it.

The health side of this feels important too. Lane (2016) argues that body modification is not just a single decision but an ongoing process shaped by personal context and changing motivations. But when that context includes algorithms repeatedly showing the same ideal face over and over again, it becomes harder to separate what you want from what the platform keeps suggesting you should want.

The Victorian Government’s 2019 response to cosmetic surgery regulation shows how online influence can create real offline consequences. New protections around advertising and practitioner standards were introduced partly because younger audiences were increasingly discovering cosmetic procedures through Instagram before speaking to actual healthcare professionals.

I do not think body modification is automatically harmful, and people should absolutely have autonomy over their own bodies. But this week made me realise that being a critical digital citizen also means questioning where our preferences come from. Is this something I genuinely want? Or is this just what the algorithm has been quietly showing me every day for the past six months?

Those are two very different questions.

References

Carah, N. & Dobson, A. 2016, 'Algorithmic hotness: young women's "promotion" and "reconnaissance" work via social media body images', Social Media and Society, vol. 2, no. 4, pp. 1–10.

Dorfman, R.G., Vaca, E.E., Mahmood, E., Fine, N.A. & Schierle, C.F. 2018, 'Plastic surgery-related hashtag utilization on Instagram: implications for education and marketing', Aesthetic Surgery Journal, vol. 38, no. 3, pp. 332–338.

Duffy, B.E. & Meisner, C. 2022, 'Platform governance at the margins: social media creators' experiences with algorithmic (in)visibility', Media, Culture and Society, vol. 45, no. 2, pp. 285–304, doi:10.1177/01634437221111923.

Lane, D.C. 2016, 'Understanding body modification: a process-based framework', Sociology Compass, vol. 10, no. 9, pp. 757–765, doi:10.1111/soc4.12495.

Victorian Government 2019, Protecting Victorians from Dodgy Cosmetic Surgery, Department of Health, Victoria, viewed May 2025, https://www.premier.vic.gov.au/protecting-victorians-from-dodgy-cosmetic-surgery/.

#mda20009 #bodymodification #Instagram #visualsocialmedia #digitalcitizenship #beautystandards #algorithmicvisibility #cosmeticsurgery #socialmedia #mediastudies

[matstudent]

Week 7 | Social Media Influencers and the Slow Fashion Movement

- be honest: when did you last buy something because someone online made it look too good to ignore?

I will be honest, I have definitely bought things because someone online made them look really convincing. Sometimes it does not even feel like advertising anymore. It feels like a recommendation from someone you trust, even though realistically, they do not actually know you. That is what made this week’s topic about influencers and slow fashion so interesting to me.

Social media influencers have become a major part of how people discover fashion today. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok make trends spread extremely quickly, especially through “haul” videos, outfit posts, and brand partnerships. At the same time, this has contributed to the growth of fast fashion, where brands rapidly produce cheap clothing to keep up with constantly changing trends. Companies like SHEIN are often discussed because of how quickly they release new products and encourage overconsumption through influencer marketing.

This week introduced the idea of slow fashion, which acts as an alternative to this culture of overconsumption. Domingos, Vale and Faria (2022) explain slow fashion as a movement focused on sustainability, ethical production, quality, and mindful consumption. Instead of buying large amounts of cheap clothing, slow fashion encourages people to buy less, choose better quality items, and think more carefully about where products come from.

What I found interesting is that influencers can actually play both positive and negative roles here. On one hand, influencers often encourage people to buy more through sponsored posts and trend culture. A lot of fast fashion marketing relies on creators promoting “must-have” products or massive shopping hauls, which can normalise overconsumption.

On the other hand, some influencers are actively trying to challenge this system. A good example from this week is Venetia La Manna, who uses her platform to raise awareness about labour exploitation, sustainability, and greenwashing in the fashion industry. Rather than encouraging constant shopping, she promotes ideas like rewearing clothes and being more conscious about consumption. Her #OOOTD (Old Outfit of the Day) campaign stood out to me because it challenges the pressure to always wear something new online.

Another interesting example is Big Sister Swap, a clothing-swapping platform that encourages people to exchange clothes instead of buying new ones. I found this especially interesting because it shows how digital platforms can also be used to support sustainability rather than only driving consumerism. Instead of influencers always promoting new products, platforms can also help people rethink consumption habits.

At the same time, I think slow fashion is harder to practise than it sounds. Domingos, Vale and Faria (2022) mention something called the attitude-behaviour gap, which basically means people may care about sustainability but still continue buying fast fashion because of convenience, price, or trends. Honestly, I think a lot of people can relate to this. Even if we know fast fashion has problems, cheaper prices and influencer culture still make it difficult to resist.

After this week, I realised that social media itself is not necessarily the problem. The bigger question is how people choose to use it. Influencers can either encourage constant overconsumption or help people become more aware of ethical and sustainable choices. I think that is what makes digital citizenship important here too, learning to think critically about what we are being influenced to buy.

References

Brewer, M.K. 2019, ‘Slow fashion in a fast fashion world: promoting sustainability and responsibility’, Laws, vol. 8, no. 4.

Domingos, M., Vale, V.T. & Faria, S. 2022, ‘Slow fashion consumer behavior: a literature review’, Sustainability, vol. 14, no. 5.

Venetia La Manna 2023, This is Activism: Venetia La Manna on Exposing Fast Fashion's Unscrupulous Practices, Hunger Magazine.

Good On You 2023, Meet Big Sister Swap, the Personalised Clothes Swapping Service of Your Dreams.

#mda20009 #SlowFashion #FastFashion #Sustainability #Influencers #SHEIN #VenetiaLaManna #BigSisterSwap #EthicalFashion #SocialMedia

[matstudent]

Week 6 | Digital Citizenship & Hashtag Publics

-when was the last time a hashtag actually changed something for you? like, really?

I have genuinely been thinking about this all week because we have all seen it happen. A hashtag trends, people repost things on Instagram stories, Twitter/X gets chaotic for a few days, everyone debates online, and then suddenly it feels like people move on. So what actually makes a hashtag matter? When does online activism become something bigger than just posting?

This week focused on digital citizenship, but not in the “be safe online” way schools usually teach it. Choi and Cristol (2021) explain digital citizenship as something much broader. It is about participation, power, and whose voices are heard online. Social media platforms give people opportunities to speak, organise, and challenge issues publicly, but at the same time, not everyone gets equal visibility.

This idea becomes really obvious through hashtag publics. Basically, hashtags can bring people together around shared concerns and temporarily create online communities. Leong and Rosli’s (2021) discussion of Malaysian hashtag campaigns during COVID-19 stood out to me because it showed how social media conversations can actually move beyond the internet. Campaigns like #KitaJagaKita (“We take care of each other”) did more than spread information. They encouraged support networks, called out unfair behaviour from public figures, and helped people feel connected during a really uncertain time. The hashtag helped people connect, but it was the community behind it that gave the movement momentum.

Another idea I found interesting was what Theocharis et al. (2023) call platform affordances. This basically means the features of platforms shape how people participate politically. Twitter/X makes fast conversations and reposting easy. Instagram works well for visual storytelling. TikTok can push content from ordinary people to huge audiences through its algorithm. Social media platforms are not neutral spaces because the way they are designed influences what people see and how discussions spread.

Something else that surprised me was Enli’s (2017) discussion about political authenticity online. Looking at Trump and Clinton’s 2016 campaigns, Enli found that social media often rewards politicians who seem more “real” or relatable, even if their communication is less polished. That feels very relevant today because online politics often seems more focused on personality and relatability than actual policies.

At the same time, there is still the criticism of slacktivism. Sometimes online activism can feel performative, where reposting or liking something gives the feeling of participation without much action happening offline. But I also think dismissing digital activism completely is unfair. Vromen (2017) argues that online participation can actually encourage deeper civic involvement, and movements like Bersih in Malaysia show how online discussions can eventually become offline action.

After this week, I think digital citizenship feels a lot more complicated than I originally thought. Social media clearly has limits, but it also gives ordinary people ways to participate in conversations that were once controlled mostly by politicians, journalists, or large organisations. I guess being a digital citizen is not just about being online, but about what kind of participation we choose to contribute.

References

Choi, M. & Cristol, D. 2021, ‘Digital citizenship with intersectionality lens: towards participatory democracy driven digital citizenship education’, Theory Into Practice, vol. 60, no. 4, pp. 361–370.

Enli, G. 2017, ‘Twitter as an arena for the authentic outsider: exploring the social media campaigns of Trump and Clinton in the 2016 presidential election’, European Journal of Communication, vol. 32, no. 1, pp. 50–61.

Leong, P.P.Y. & Rosli, A.A. 2021, Hashtag Campaigns during the COVID-19 Pandemic in Malaysia: Escalating from Online to Offline, ISEAS–Yusof Ishak Institute, Singapore.

McCosker, A. 2016, ‘Negotiating digital citizenship: control, contest and culture’, in Managing Digital Citizenship.

Theocharis, Y., Boulianne, S., Koc-Michalska, K. & Bimber, B. 2023, ‘Platform affordances and political participation: how social media reshape political engagement’, West European Politics, vol. 46, no. 4, pp. 788–811.

Vromen, A. 2017, Digital Citizenship and Political Engagement: The Challenge from Online Campaigning and Advocacy Organisations, Palgrave Macmillan, London.

#mda20009 #digitalcitizenship #hashtagpublics #onlineactivism #KitaJagaKita #Malaysia #socialmedia #politicalengagement #mediastudies #digitalpublics

[matstudent]

Week 5 | Digital Community & Fandom

- okay but why are people so obsessed with reality TV if everyone says they hate it?

Reality TV has always existed in a strange position within media culture. People often criticise it for being “fake”, scripted, or overly dramatic, yet millions of people still watch it every year. This contradiction made me think about how reality TV is no longer just entertainment. Today, it acts as a starting point for wider online discussions, communities, and even debates about society.

One important concept from this week is the idea of digital publics. Traditionally, the public sphere referred to a space where people come together to discuss issues and form opinions. However, in the digital age, this has shifted into multiple online spaces such as Twitter/X, Reddit, Tumblr, and TikTok, where audiences actively participate in conversations. Reality TV contributes to this by creating “micro-publics” through hashtags, fan pages, memes, and discussion threads. Shows like Love Island and Married at First Sight regularly generate huge online conversations where viewers debate relationships, fairness, ethics, and contestant behaviour in real time.

What I found especially interesting is that viewers today are not just watching reality TV passively anymore. Jenkins (2006) explains this through the idea of participatory culture, where audiences become active participants rather than passive consumers. Fans create memes, post theories, analyse contestant behaviour, and sometimes even challenge producers online. Platforms like Twitter, Reddit, and Tumblr have become extensions of reality TV itself.

A strong example of this is Love Island. L’Hoiry (2019) explains how fans did not simply accept what producers showed on screen. Instead, viewers used social media to analyse editing choices, compare scenes, and question whether contestants were being represented fairly. During one season, audiences even raised concerns about racial bias in how contestant Samira Mighty was portrayed, leading to thousands of complaints being made. What stood out to me here is that fandom became more than entertainment. Fans were actively questioning producers and holding producers accountable online. L’Hoiry describes this as sousveillance, where ordinary people use digital tools to “watch back” at powerful institutions rather than simply accepting what is presented to them.

Another important idea from this topic is how reality TV has expanded beyond television into a multi-platform experience. The drama no longer ends when the episode finishes. Contestants continue sharing content on Instagram, podcasts, TikTok, and interviews, while audiences continue discussing storylines online. This creates stronger emotional connections between contestants and audiences because viewers feel personally involved in their lives even after the show ends.

Fandom also plays a major role in these online spaces. Communities today are built around shared interests rather than physical location. Being part of a fandom can become part of someone’s identity. Drawing on Erving Goffman’s idea of performative identity, people present different versions of themselves depending on context. In fandom spaces, audiences often share inside jokes, references, and common language, helping them feel connected to a larger community.

At the same time, these digital communities are not always positive. While they encourage discussion and belonging, they can also lead to online harassment, bullying, and toxic behaviour. Reality TV contestants are often ordinary people who suddenly become targets of public criticism because of how they are edited or portrayed. Wood (2022) argues that reality TV today requires greater responsibility and care due to the mental health pressures contestants experience once social media attention becomes overwhelming.

Overall, this week made me realise that reality TV is much more complex than I originally thought. It is not just a television genre, but a digital phenomenon that encourages participation, identity formation, and public discussion. Even though reality TV is often dismissed as “mindless entertainment,” the conversations happening around it reveal a lot about how digital communities function today.

References

Jenkins, H. 2006, Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide, NYU Press, New York.

L'Hoiry, X. 2019, 'Love Island, social media, and sousveillance: new pathways of challenging realism in reality TV', Frontiers in Sociology, vol. 4, art. 59.

Wood, H. 2022, 'Big Brother is coming back – the reality TV landscape today will demand a more caring show', The Conversation, 10 August.

#mda20009 #RealityTV #DigitalPublics #Fandom #LoveIsland #DigitalCommunity #ParticipatoryCulture #SocialMedia