
The term “social media” has become fossilized in our vocabulary, a linguistic inertia that masks a very different technological and sociological reality. However, social media, as it was originally conceived, is dead. What we consume today are commercial platforms for mass entertainment, built on an architecture that no longer seeks connection between people, but rather the retention of attention with an endless and, to a large extent, amateurish spectacle .
To understand this demise, it’s necessary to look back to the archaeology of the internet. In its early days, platforms like Six Degrees and, later, MySpace or the first Facebook, had a clear mission: to transfer the social graph of the physical world to the virtual environment. The goal was to establish connections, whether with acquaintances or like-minded strangers, and the interaction was fundamentally conversational. The user actively built their network, and the content they consumed was strictly that which their network generated. Posting a photograph or a status update was an invitation to dialogue, a connection node that strengthened relationships between people.
From the network of contacts to the feed of interests
In the current paradigm, however, emotional or relational closeness with the content creator is irrelevant. What matters most is the content’s ability to hold the user’s attention for microseconds. TikTok’s algorithm, for example, doesn’t reward friendship: it focuses on displaying content inferred from micro-signals (viewing time, repetitions, pauses).
This has turned users into passive spectators of a relentless stream of short videos, memes, and opinions from people with whom they have no, and will have no, real connection. Facebook and Instagram have shifted from being organized around “people and accounts you follow” to showing “more relevant content recommended by AI systems”—in other words, a “discovery engine.” The metaphor is no longer that of a social club, but rather a catalog.
When the goal is to retain
This shift alters incentives. Publishing “for your own people” makes less sense if distribution depends on a system that rewards the likelihood of consumption, not the quality of the connection. In practice, relationships are moving toward private messaging, small groups, and ephemeral content, while the public sphere has become a mere showcase.
In this scenario, conversation still exists, although it ceases to be the primary economic unit. What is monetized is sustained attention. And that’s where advertising saturation comes in: the more minutes spent online, the more impressions, the more segmentation, and the more user data collected.
Free content, expensive ads
The transformation has impeccable business logic. The platforms host and distribute a massive amount of user-produced content, the vast majority of which is free. This content is abundant, renewable, customizable, and cheap. The platform sells advertising around (and within) this external production, without assuming the costs typical of traditional media groups: newsrooms, licenses, production, and rights.
Monetization is expanding even into areas that previously seemed like “safe havens” of social interaction. Meta has already announced the introduction of advertising and subscriptions on WhatsApp , although it will be concentrated in the “News” tab and not in chats . The move is symbolic: messaging, where the intimacy of the connection is still preserved, is also being integrated into the logic of the commercial product.
Even LinkedIn, the last bastion of the pure professional social network, has begun to pollute its feed with “inspirational” content and algorithmic recommendations that have little to do with the professional’s direct network of contacts, seeking to increase the time spent on the application at the expense of professional relevance.
YouTube and the obvious proof
In this debate, it’s worth clarifying one thing: YouTube has been called a social network countless times without ever truly being one. It is, above all, an entertainment platform with a social layer. You can comment, subscribe, like, or chat live, but the core of the system isn’t building connections, it’s consuming video. Interestingly, many social networks have become “YouTube-ized”: they maintain social features, but their heart lies in algorithmic recommendations geared towards user retention.
The paradox is that the platforms themselves indirectly acknowledge that the change has been profound. Meta has begun testing features to reset Instagram’s recommendations and points out that alternatives exist, such as the “Following” feed in chronological order. If a button is needed for us to manage our own experience, it’s because the algorithm is no longer an assistant: it is, by default, the program director.
Should we stop calling them social networks?
In the Spanish context, this reality is evident in the data. The IAB Spain Social Media Study 2025 sheds a very clear light on the paradigm shift: the main motivation for Spanish users to use these platforms is no longer “to stay in touch with friends,” but “to be entertained,” an objective cited by more than 80% of those surveyed.
Phenomena such as the Kings League or the rise of Spanish streamers are nothing more than the professionalization of this entertainment within platforms that already function as the new generalist channels.
In short, at a time when banning access to these platforms for those under 16 is being considered , we must start calling things by their proper names. Continuing to refer to Instagram, TikTok, or X as social networks is a fundamental mistake. They are algorithmic entertainment platforms where human interaction has been relegated to a secondary role, always subordinated to the commercial imperative of keeping us glued to the screen for as long as possible.
The network, understood as a human fabric, has broken down. What remains is a fragmented, isolated, and perpetually entertained global audience.
Author Bio: Fernando Checa García is Professor and digital marketing consultant. Director of the Master’s Program in Social Media at UNIR International University of La Rioja