Threads vs. Twitter – The Jury’s In

I’ve been wanting to write this post for at least the last six months, so the jury’s been in for quite a while.

When Elon Musk bought Twitter, I was sceptical. I heard tales that he was compelling the remaining staff there to work extremely long days – introducing an extremely brutal culture. I don’t know how true this information was, and I don’t know how true it is now – maybe Musk has taken his foot off the pedal a bit – but I am very against this kind of culture at technology companies, and didn’t want to use a platform that was built by it. I had no intention of deleting my account – that makes it possible for someone else to take your username and impersonate you – I was just going to leave it there and not tweet very much.

Conversely, when Threads was created I was very optimistic. Being an author, I am naturally more inclined to social media platforms that are word-based, rather than those that are image-based, like Instagram, or video-based, like YouTube, and I hoped that Threads could be all of the things that Twitter hadn’t been over the years.

It is almost two years since Threads was released, and the jury is in. Threads is absolutely shit, while Twitter has become possibly the best social media platform on the internet.

Even within the first few days of Threads being released, I could see that those people who were famous, or who already had large followings elsewhere, were able to get much further ahead on the site than anyone else, replicating and reinforcing the kind of celebrity-non-celebrity class structure that existed on Twitter prior to Musk buying it. What’s the point of starting a new social media site if you’re just going to do that again?

But that was far from the worst of it. One of the worst things about Threads is that it appears to be filled with absolutely insufferable cunts. Sometimes I will post something incredibly mild – almost banal – and I will get random people from across Threads – people I don’t know, people I’ve never interacted with, people I don’t even have common interests with – going on a crusade against it. And the most obnoxious instances of these are when they decide to ‘quote’ (or whatever it’s called on Threads) the post, complaining about it, rather than saying anything directly in response – as though to say ‘Look!!! See this disGUSTing thing this person has said!!! What a disGUSTing person!!!!!’.

It’s difficult to decide which aspect of this is most obnoxious. When I see a post online that I disagree with, if it’s by someone I don’t know or someone who isn’t generally well-known, I just ignore it and move on. It’s the refrain that sane people have been saying since the start of the internet: ‘You can always just not watch it / not read it.’. Why is Threads filled with people without this ability? But just as obnoxious is that it is an insane way to interact with someone you don’t know and have never interacted with before. You would never do this in real life.

Related to this is that Threads seems to be filled with people who are surprised that they will be blocked if they are cunts. If someone is acting high-and-mighty, and rather cancel-y, over a very mild post, I will block them. And yet endlessly these people say ‘uGH!!! I can’t beLIEVE that OP blocked me?!?!?! i GuEsS tHaT sHoWs ThAt He DoEsN’t ReAlLy HaVe An ArGuMeNt!!!1’ – no, it’s because you’re being a cunt – and you’re still being a cunt by discounting the possibility that your very obviously cunty behaviour might make people think that you’re a cunt.

But possibly even more annoying about Threads is that the algorithm has a very obvious left-wing bias. I mean it’s more than that – it’s a woke bias. If you post woke shit on Threads, you will do well; if you post anti-woke stuff, you will not do well. You can see how many views a post gets on Threads, and I can tell, before posting something, whether the algorithm will like it and boost it, and how high that view count will be. Oh, you used a swear word? Demote. Oh, you referred to something from traditional culture? Demote. Oh, you talked about how you didn’t like something? Disliking things is hatred, and we don’t allow hatred in our hugbox. Demote. Oh, you suggested that there’s a right and a wrong way to do something? That makes people feeeEeEel bad. Demote. Meanwhile it will push the sloppiest slop from content farms in Vietnam to millions of people.

Twitter, on the other hand, has gone from strength to strength. There is endless self-congratulatory consternation from mainstream media types and Leftists these days about how Twitter is ‘oooooh it’s … it’s a very dark place now … it’s … there’s … there’s a lot of “””hateful””” stuff on there’. Quite frankly anyone who says this has either become so used to their mind being numbed by the fluffy, microfibre cushions of moderation that exist on other sites, or they don’t use Twitter.

Are there some awful people and awful opinions on Twitter? Yeah. D’you know what you do about it? You just ignore it. You keep scrolling. You don’t, in fact, have to absorb every opinion you see. If you think otherwise, that suggests that you are lacking in a vital cognitive ability – and your lack of ability to form your own thoughts is not a justification to limit what the rest of us can do.

Twitter is the Wild West. You’ll find crazy people there, idiots, and some people who are just downright evil. But guess what? You find all of that on Threads too, but it’ll only be the crazy, idiotic, and evil from the political left. What you’ll also find on Twitter is some of the greatest insight and in-depth discussion you’ll find almost anywhere on the internet. You won’t find that on Threads, or Instagram, or Facebook, or Reddit, or BlueSky, or in YouTube comments – all of which are heavily policed by wokescolds and whingelords – be they biological or electronic ones.

You can tweet on Twitter knowing that it won’t receive more or less attention just because it has the ‘wrong’ ideological bias. You can see the analytics for a tweet on Twitter too – and Twitter shows you far more than Threads does – and you can easily see that the algorithm does not wildly vary how much attention it gives a tweet based on whether some super-Sharon thinks it has the right ‘tone’.

I was sceptical about the change to ‘verification’ on Twitter – making it so that anyone could buy it. But actually this change has been brilliant. The old system – where verification was for journalists, celebrities, and politicians – created a class structure on the site. If you were in the ‘verified’ class, you could actually use Twitter to promote things. If you were in the ‘unverified’ class, you were just the audience – you would never have any reach or say or influence – you were there simply to applaud and cheer on the exalted few. The new system is actually far more meritocratic.

I have also been impressed by how Twitter now will pay you to tweet, if you have a premium account. It was absurd that, for so long, Twitter and so many sites like it would make money off of your content without paying you. We do not accept this from YouTube, so why do we accept this from other social media sites?

Twitter is actually enjoyable to use. Threads is not. Threads is suffocating. You cannot do well unless you resign yourself to pushing endless multicoloured slop – but even if you did that, there would be no benefit anyway, since you don’t get paid, and you can’t put links out to other things on the internet because Threads will pummel those posts into the ground too. And at any moment, a haughty non-person may decide to make complaining about you to their three followers their life’s purpose just because you asked a question about the origin of a word.

So here we are, two years later. Threads is vile. It has no reason to exist. Twitter remains the champion.

The Book of the Order of Chivalry – One of the greatest books I have ever read

Almost every week nowadays, I marvel at the things not taught to me when I was in the education system.

It’s a common refrain – ‘Why aren’t they teaching this?’, ‘Why aren’t they teaching that?’ – but I mean it in an even deeper sense. It’s not just that there are certain things that are not taught – they’re not even mentioned. An example of this is Anglo-Saxon history. I was taught nothing about Anglo-Saxon history when I was in school. This is astonishing given that the Anglo-Saxons were the start of the English – all of the history of the British Isles before that is British history but not English history. But even more than that, in the entire five years I spent at secondary school, I don’t think the term ‘Anglo-Saxon’ was mentioned even once.

There are also many examples of things not being taught or even mentioned from my university education. I could write hundreds of blog posts (not an exaggeration) about how low quality my university education was – there’s no point trying to cover it all here. But in addition to many utterly bizarre choices in course structure, there were hundreds of important things that were never even mentioned. In physics we were not taught the conceptual framework around waves properly to understand radiation pressure or the derivation of the black-body spectrum curve; we were not taught Minkowski diagrams properly; we weren’t taught measurement and uncertainty properly. In mathematics we were not taught matrices properly, or the principles of limits. We didn’t even really do complex numbers properly, though we did do a lot with them. The way we were taught quantum mechanics was utterly abysmal. And we were taught absolutely nothing about the history of physics.

I could go on and on and on, but that’s not what this post is about. It is in the time since leaving the education system that I have learned about these things. Everything I know about Anglo-Saxon history – which, of course, went into the writing of On The Subject Of Trolls – I have learned myself.

If you have grown up in Britain around the same time as me (I am a millennial), you will have heard the word ‘chivalry’ thrown around from time to time. You of course know that it has something to do with mediæval knights – it was some sort of practice that they had or ideal that they strove towards. You will have heard the word ‘chivalry’ used to refer to certain kinds of behaviour in the modern age – usually things as drab as holding doors open for people. You will also have heard the word used by feminists. Over the last 30 years, they have typically used it in a derogatory sense, referring to actions or behaviours that they consider to be outdated and offensive to their belief system.

All of this – everything that has been said of ‘chivalry’ in popular culture in the last 30 years (at least) is wrong. Not only is it wrong, it is completely wrong. It doesn’t even get the basic ideas of what actual chivalry is right.

I have recently been reading a book on heraldry. This book makes reference to other works as it goes along, and at one point – quite early on – it describes a book called The Book of the Order of Chivalry. This book was written in the 1200s, and it describes exactly what chivalry was supposed to be, and what knights were supposed to do. I had no idea that there even was such a book. What’s more, The Book of the Order of Chivalry was apparently considered to be the standard text describing what chivalry was for a very long time. What an extraordinary thing – that there is a definitive text telling those who aspire to be knights what a knight was and what chivalry was!

When I saw this a few weeks ago, I was already complaining in my head of how this wasn’t ever mentioned to me while I was in the education system. I looked around online to see if I could read it – for old texts, very often you can read a scan of them somewhere online. I went onto Amazon to see if I could buy a modern copy of the book – and I could – there was a modern translation of the book available. (Not so modern as to be affected by the rot that is currently creeping through academia.) I bought it.

The Book of the Order of Chivalry is not a long book – in the translation that I have, it doesn’t even pass fifty pages. But when I was reading through it, it was nothing short of enlightening. And I don’t mean that in an exaggerative sense – reading it was as though the light of knowledge was shining into my mind.

Chivalry is an entire system for producing persons of good character – persons who are well trained in the various martial arts of a knight, and so are very physically capable, but who are also learned, and so very mentally capable. It is a system that, through the production of such persons, produces a good and orderly society. It also contains methods of self-regulation – necessary for when someone comes along who tries to subvert the system.

Although The Book of the Order of Chivalry was written in the 1200s and is specifically about knights, and those who wish to become them, many of the prescriptions it gives about how knights should be could apply to anyone, in any time period, who wants to be a good person or build a good society. That’s one of the things that was so fantastic about it – huge parts of it are completely relevant to life today. Some of it appears to be astonishingly prescient – there are problems that exist in the world today that this book has the solution to. And this is what makes it downright outrageous that this book has seemingly been hidden from us in the modern age – the solutions to many problems that exist today – sometimes very specific problems – have been known for centuries.

Take the following paragraph from the translation by Noel Fallows:

The king or prince who unmakes the Order of Chivalry itself not only unmakes himself as a knight, but also the knights who are subordinate to him who, because of the bad example set by their lord and so that they will be loved by him and follow his evil ways, do what does not pertain to Chivalry or its Order.

Ramon Llull, The Book of the Order of Chivalry

In other words, if any knight acts in a way that is not in accordance with true Chivalry, he not only unmakes himself as a knight, but also all of the knights he trains or is in command of.

This is a principle that is relevant not only to Chivalry, but to any organisational structure, in any time period.

Take another paragraph:

If the squire should be dubbed a knight because of fineness of features or a well-built, well-proportioned body, or because he has fair hair or carries a mirror in his purse […] you debase and diminish the Order of Chivalry.

Ramon Llull, The Book of the Order of Chivalry

What an amazing thing to read! Don’t just reward people with status and power because they are good-looking – it’s a principle that can apply to every society in every time period.

Take another one:

The prideful, ill-mannered squire who speaks and dresses crudely, has a cruel heart, is avaricious, mendacious, disloyal, slothful, irascible, lustful, drunken, gluttonous or perjurious, or who has other vices similar to these, is not suited to the Order of Chivalry.

Ramon Llull, The Book of the Order of Chivalry

To how many people does this apply today! Every week there seem to be more and more people who could be described in this way. And not only are they not suited to the Order of Chivalry, they are not suited to any position where they have any influence – particularly positions of cultural influence, which they seem to currently occupy.

Here’s another:

Do not seek nobility of courage in the mouth, for it does not always tell the truth, and do not seek it in resplendent vestments, for beneath many a resplendent cloak there is a base and weak heart filled with evil and deceit.

Ramon Llull, The Book of the Order of Chivalry

I would like to give more quotes from the book, but I fear I could very easily pass the threshold of fair use. This book is filled with good advice on how to be, how to act, how to live, how to learn, how to teach, how to train, who to trust, who to grant status, how society should be.

Chivalry – true Chivalry – is not just a few trite mannerisms – it is not just a set of pedantic rules for small actions. It is an entire way of life – and one designed to improve society. It is a tragedy that we have forgotten what it is.

It’s worth mentioning that Llull is adamant that you cannot be a knight unless you are a Christian – nothing truly chivalrous can follow without that. I am a staunch atheist. In the era of New Atheism, I was a more combative one (which was of course a big part of what New Atheism was), but nowadays I am not, and I find those who retain that combativeness towards Christianity to be rather cliché and tiresome now – it’s not needed anymore. So I can appreciate the value of the ideas in this book without being a Christian. At the same time, it’s interesting how Llull often writes about the importance of using reason and scientific knowledge (‘scientific’ perhaps not quite in the modern sense), and of avoiding superstition. Such ideas would have been very pleasing to the New Atheists of 2007-2012.

It is outrageous that modern popular culture – and modern feminism – lies to us about what true Chivalry is. It is outrageous that the modern education system does not tell us what it is. It is outrageous that the modern education system doesn’t even tell us about the existence of this book. And it is outrageous that wisdom that has been around for centuries is hidden from us – wisdom that we could use today.

Reading this book was enlightening – not because I didn’t know or believe many of the ideas that are in it – a lot of them are actually ones I already knew and agreed with – it was enlightening because I was realising just how long this knowledge has existed for. It was there. It was always there.

It was also remarkable just how much the ideas overlapped with ideas from another part of my life: Taekwondo. I have done Taekwondo for more than 20 years – it’s been a huge part of my life. Taekwondo has a moral dimension. What was amazing reading this book was how mediæval Chivalry (from Europe eight hundred years ago) and Taekwondo (which developed in Korea in the last century) have produced many of the same ideas. Two completely unconnected cultures produced the same ideas. Extraordinary.

True Chivalry is, in many ways, the antidote to the poison that is modernity. It is the balm that could heal many today. It is not something to be contemptuous towards – it is quite possibly the very thing that we, the English, need at this moment in time.

I have not shown you the very best part of the book – that should be saved for when you read it yourself. And I think you should read it yourself. There are very few books that I would say that everyone should read, but this is one of them. Every Englishman should read this book.

You can get the version I read here: https://amzn.to/3HDxmmT (affiliate link).


P.S. While I have tried to be very clear here as to the reasons why I like this book so much, in time the reasons will become clearer still.

Therapomania – The near-religious belief in the infallibility of psychotherapy

Rick and Morty was mid.

I seem to be one of the only people who has this opinion. Most people, it seems, either haven’t seen the show, or think it’s absolutely brilliant.

I actually didn’t see the show for many, many years. It was only last year, I think, that I watched it all. (Well, up to the end of season six – I dislike changes in voice actor.) I had tried to get into it several times previously – because people had said that it was a great show – but I just found the first three episodes unbelievably dull.

Having now watched it, I’m confused as to why people think it’s so outstandingly brilliant. The show is nowhere near as funny as I was expecting it to be based on what people said. (It is funny – it’s just not that funny.) It’s also quite slow – there is much that could have been cut out. I actually far more enjoy clips of the show as YouTube Shorts than the show itself, because the clips cut out the dead time. I’m concerned that people like it as much as they do simply because it is whacky. It’s off-the-wall; it’s random. It’s weird and it’s cool, and it’s cool that it’s weird. ‘Whackiness’ like this is actually quite easy to produce in an artistic work. (I think people think it’s hard to do, but it’s not.) And if it’s not paired with true humour or insight, it’s cheap.

Anyway, one of the tangents of the show that is quite funny, is that of the therapist character – Dr. Helen Wong. The idea of the Smith family going to therapy is intrinsically hilarious – partly because of the contrast between their space-faring, multidimensional lives involving the most grotesque, unsettling, and downright bizarre aliens, and the HR-style banality of psychotherapy, and partly because the problems the Smith family face are not ones that can be solved by psychotherapy. But the therapy scenes are also hilarious because of the way they mock the trite ruminations and kum-ba-yah-ism of therapy – in a way that dozens of shows have done before.

At the end of the episode of Pickle Rick, where Rick tries to avoid going to a ‘family therapy’ session by turning himself into a pickle, Rick stumbles into the therapist’s office, where the rest of his family (minus Jerry) have been sitting and being intellectually harassed by the therapist. Rick asks Beth to give him the serum that will turn him back into a human, which she has held onto for the entire episode. The therapist then directs Beth to ask Rick why he needs the serum, knowing that it will force him to say that he didn’t want to come to a family therapy session.

Rick ends up giving a monologue about why he doesn’t like therapy – most of which is correct. Dr. Wong then responds with a monologue.

Dr. Wong’s monologue is part psychoanalysis, part life-coaching speech. Her psychoanalysis of Rick is incorrect based on what we know from all the previous episodes of the show, and the monologue overall is incoherent – making points that do not logically follow on from each other – but it contains the kind of pretentious language and lilt that all successful life coaches use.

It’s actually quite funny, because it’s an excellent mockery of the kind of beatification that therapists, life coaches, business coaches, consultants, megachurch pastors, and certain influencers sometimes receive. Here is someone who has mastered the aesthetics and cadence of insight, while having absolutely nothing profound to say. Very funny.

This is how I understood this moment in the show when I first saw it – and how I thought everyone understood it. However, when I watch this clip on YouTube, and I scroll down to the comments, I am mortified to find that there are seemingly a large number of people – thousands of people, based on the likes – who treat this scene as actual, genuine, real psychotherapy, and Dr. Wong’s analysis of Rick as being nothing short of perfection in profundity.

This baffled me when I first saw it. How do these people not know that this is a joke? How do people not know that this is mocking the character of Dr. Wong? The entire setup for this scene is a textbook example of the humour of contrast – the extremity of Rick and Morty’s multidimensional life against the mundanity of a therapist’s office in a shopping mall. We have seen this kind of contrast humour – between the extraordinary and the mundane – hundreds upon hundreds of times in media over the last 25 years – how are these people not able to recognise it again here? But no, apparently these commenters believe that everything Dr. Wong is saying about Rick is absolutely true, and can be applied to real people in the real world.

It’s worth mentioning at this point that these kinds of comments on the video and the likes they have received may be entirely fake. I have noticed a change recently in the kind of comments that appear at the top of YouTube videos. They’re sort of all like this – right across YouTube, but particularly under comedy videos – people taking the content of the video far too seriously, as though it isn’t comedy. I’m not the only person who’s noticed this either – I recall that there’s even a Twitter account dedicated to overly-serious comments under Family Guy videos. In a world where it is possible to generate readable text very easily (AI), it is entirely possible that all of these comments are from fake accounts.

However, the reason why I am not entirely convinced that these comments are fake is because I have noticed a similar attitude towards psychotherapy in real people – either commenters on certain kinds of podcast or even friends in real life.

There is a common refrain that you will see right across the internet. It’s a kind of text-based meme. ‘Men will do anything except go to therapy.’, or some variation of that. You see this refrain anywhere that tells of or shows a man who has done something seemingly incomprehensible to the commenter.

A good 80-90% of the time I see this refrain, I think ‘Yes, because most men intuitively know that what’s done in “therapy” will have absolutely no capacity to solve this problem.’. There is an assumption, held by some people – a belief, even – in the infinite power of ‘therapy’ to fix everything. They seem to believe that therapy can fix every problem. I have even heard, over the years, these people express that they believe everyone should be in therapy – all the time.

As I say, the reason why therapy is less popular with men than it is with women is because men realise that it will not solve their problems. This is not to say that it is never useful – there are certain problems that it can solve – but psychotherapy is treated by some as a panacea. It is not. And not only is it not, it can also create problems. Psychotherapy can encourage excessive rumination and the acceptance of non-agency – and even worse, the near-worship of psychotherapy that seems to exist among a small proportion of the population can promote both of these things.

Psychotherapy is not neutral. We are encouraged to think that it is – that the psychotherapist comes with no biases. But actually they do – and sometimes they have very strong biases. Psychotherapy is not neutral – not morally, not philosophically, not politically. They have replaced, in some ways, a task done in previous centuries by vicars and other religious figures – except that while you likely know the approximate moral, philosophical, and political positions of a Christian vicar before talking to them, with a psychotherapist, you don’t.

Psychotherapy is not infallible. This should be obvious, but apparently to some it is not. One of the clearest and most topical examples of this is the complete capture of the profession of psychotherapy by Gender Ideology that we have seen over the last decade or more. When an entire field can make that big of a mistake, one should not only not consider it infallible, one should consider it to be highly fallible.

Yet there are people who seem to believe in the complete infallibility of psychotherapy. More than that – they won’t have a word said about it. If you try to suggest that maybe – just maybe – psychotherapy is anything other than salvation, they will try to shut you down – cut you off mid sentence. No wrong word may be said about it. It is a religious-like zeal, and I have observed it enough times now to need a name for it.

Psychotherapomania – or just therapomania for short – the near-religious belief in the infallibility of psychotherapy.