It wasn’t until August 2021 that I finally took the plunge and joined Twitter, after months of listening to my brother’s enthusiastic accounts of real-time dicussions, trending topics, and the never-ending stream of information the platform had to offer. Unlike many tweeps who admit to cycling through the phases of creating an account, abandoning it, and eventually getting hooked, I found myself instantly drawn in. Perhaps it was because I had no presence on other social networks, but now that I do, it’s safe to say that my attachment to Twitter, like many others, wasn’t influenced by the presence or absence of alternative platforms.

For me, Twitter felt real. It was different. It was exactly what I needed. It was the perfect form of online escapism. Despite non-users and occasional tweeps dismissing it as a hellsite based on trending hostile snippets, the bird app was way more than that. At the time, Twitter had a way of returning the energy you invested. Music, football, writing, politics, literature — whatever I consistently interacted with, it fed me. Sure, there were daily cases of derailment, but once you followed the dictum of blocking accounts, muting words or trends that didn’t appeal to you, and carefully curating your timeline, you could minimise the possibilities. However, that sense of control is hardly present now. So much has changed in the last three years since I signed up, and even more so in the past year and ten months since Elon Musk notoriously “freed the bird.”

On October 27, 2022, just hours before Musk completed the seven-month-long process of acquiring Twitter, the Tesla CEO shared his real intention for the platform in an open letter aimed at calming advertisers. “The reason I acquired Twitter,” Musk wrote, “is because it is important to the future of civilization to have a common digital town square, where a wide range of beliefs can be debated in a healthy manner, without resorting to violence.”

Musk claimed that the compelling, inimitable real-time conversations — one of Twitter’s most defining features — were being eroded by the relentless pursuit of clicks.  “Much of traditional media has fueled and catered to those polarized extremes, as they believe that is what brings in the money, but in doing so, the opportunity for dialogue is lost,’’ he said.

Whatever plans Musk had to curb that, paying users for engagement amassed seems like the most counterproductive solution. The controversial decision to share ad revenues with premium users feels like classic Musk, but it has only fueled rampant engagement farming, misinformation, and an overall rise in content toxicity.

A lot more than this has happened since Musk took over. It’s been an exhaustive timeline of new features, platform changes, and controversies that, in all honesty, haven’t all really been a decline. However, the negatives can’t be ignored just for the sake of the positives. From formally facilitating adult content to re-platforming and enabling bigots, jingoists, misogynists, homophobes, and other extremists parading as opinion leaders, Musk’s dogmatic mode of operations and politically charged decisions are proving to be a greater detriment. As a self-proclaimed free speech advocate, it was shocking when he caved to Narendra Modi’s demands to suspend hundreds of accounts linked to India’s farmers’ protests. Then, just two months later, Twitter refused Brazil’s Supreme Court request to suspend accounts accused of anti-government activities.

Like most political issues, there are layers of complexity here, but the broader point is clear: Musk has been steering Twitter’s wheel as he would his Tesla Model S.

For a platform that once thrived on user-driven features like hashtags and threads, Twitter has become something else entirely. It no longer feels like a space that prioritise user experience.

Take, for example, the brief removal of headlines from articles shared by users in the second half of 2023. The update made posts show only the images of articles that were shared,  requiring users to click on the art to access the link. Before the update went live, Musk tweeted “This is coming from me directly. Will greatly improve the aesthetics.”

In the pre-Musk era, Twitter’s product decisions reflected a more user-centric approach, with features carefully A/B tested and user feedback genuinely considered. But now, the platform has shifted from valuing user experience to  a playground where its most privileged user (Musk himself) dictates what he thinks the rest of us want.

And sorry, I keep referring to it as Twitter instead of X. It’s not lost on me that Twitter’s last vestige was lost in May when its URL was completely changed to X.com — a domain Musk first owned in 1999 before he bought it back from PayPal in 2017. 

According to biographer Walter Isaacson, “Musk’s concept for X.com was grand. It would be a one-stop everything-store for all financial needs: banking, digital purchases, checking, credit cards, investments, and loans.”  Now that this finance-linked dream has found its way on a social network, you have the feeling there’s still more to come. 

Kick all you want, but Twitter, as we knew it, has died insidiously, with the final nail being the change of domain and logo. The way I see it, Musk isn’t about to slow down on launching new features that’ll completely diffuse the intricacies that made Twitter what it was. Although X may still serve as a hub for breaking news, expert threads, and nuanced conversations, the overall experience feels undeniably diminished.

But what’s worse to digest is that, despite the growing unpleasantness on X, what are the odds of leaving for good?

Do we follow the Brazilians who, after the platform was banned in their country, are finding a new home on Bluesky? Or do we return to the Threads accounts we’ve already abandoned? Apart from the fact that these platforms are more of Twitter knock-offs, there are also the connections, audience, and efforts you’ve invested into your X account up until now. Can you truly abandon all that?

Not quite feasible. And despite the solastalgia and frustration, it seems we really don’t have anywhere else to turn.