The role of Tiktok in the U.S. midterm elections
The recent U.S. midterm elections in November 2022 were marked by a plethora of reactions to the growing role of Tiktok in public discourse, some of which expressed sensible concern as to its implications for democracy. The of U.S. adults who claim they regularly get news from Tiktok has grown from 3% in 2020 to 10% in 2022—more than tripling. For Americans under 30, the numbers are even more striking: 26% regularly get news from TikTok. Political parties are evidently aware of the digital platform’s considerable influence on the electorate, as 34% of Democratic candidates and 12% of Republicans now . In light of this inescapable trend, from Gen-Z for Change posited that the recent election “[was] a social media election and TikTok [was] playing a huge part.” Shlafstein optimistically claims that political content creators like him, who gather millions of followers on Tiktok, have political messaging by making it more accessible and digestible. His opinion is in line with the widespread narrative that Tiktok—if properly managed—is not only an appropriate platform for public discourse, but an effective and beneficial tool for the achievement of democratic governance. Is this theory valid, or does the expansion of Tiktok herald the crumbling of democracy in the face of a privately owned, AI-powered digital space? To borrow Ben Buchanan’s and Andrew Imbrie’s inventive metaphor in their 2022 book, The New Fire: War, Peace, and Democracy in the Age of AI, is AI already burning in ways we cannot control?
This post highlights some important shortcomings of Tiktok’s current approach to election integrity before delving into an analysis of the platform’s pernicious conditioning of democratic actors. I draw observations from my own personal experience as a Tiktok user and voter during the last provincial elections in Quebec to expose the algorithmic feed’s inability to nurture fruitful digital relationships and political dialogue, which are indispensable elements of democratic governance.
Tiktok’s current policies regarding election integrity
In response to palpable disquiet about political misinformation and foreign election interference, Tiktok has reiterated its commitment to election integrity prior to the U.S. midterm elections. Their current strategy to meet their commitment includes the creation of an “to connect people who engage with election content to authoritative information and sources.” However, despite providing users with reliable election information and prohibiting content that undermines public trust in civic processes such as elections, political mis- and disinformation is rampant on Tiktok. In fact, containing election misinformation are approved by Tiktok and nearly about key news events contains misinformation. Moreover, while Tiktok has , “users and political marketing campaigns are effectively bound by no more than an honor system in disclosing when content has been paid for by a political campaign or organization.” In truth, numerous Tiktok “influencers” were paid hundreds and sometimes thousands of dollars per post by campaign operatives to circulate political messages aimed at influencing the midterm elections.
According to Global Witness, to abide by its policy, Tiktok should increase its content moderation capabilities and integrity systems; strengthen its ad account verification process; invest in a comprehensive and robust repository of all ads running on the platform; routinely assess, mitigate, and publish election-related risks associated with its services; and allow verified independent third-party auditing. As , senior advisor at Global Witness, warns us, “[t]he consequences of inaction could be disastrous for our democracies.” However, the action required is not merely the proper enforcement of Tiktok’s ban on political advertising and harmful misinformation. These limitations fail to remedy the fundamental discordance between Tiktok and democratic values: Tiktok’s algorithmic model is designed to present information in a way that maximizes the user’s comfort, satisfaction, and entertainment at the expense of meaningful political relationships and dialogue. Indeed, as emphasized by Ontarian political columnist , Tiktok’s algorithmic feed “panders to personal tastes — catering to whims rather than curating wisdom, dividing rather than uniting.”
The incompatibility of Tiktok and democratic governance
My personal experience as a voter and Tiktok user during the last provincial elections in Quebec illustrates the global and definite consequences of Tiktok emerging as a platform for public discourse. The first political TikTok video that I saw during the election period was of a spokesperson for the party I intended to vote for. It appeared on my “For You” page although I had never taken part in political conversations on the platform, had neither entered the name of the party in the search bar nor “liked” one of their previous videos. Through , Tiktok had successfully modeled undisclosed information about my political views. Even more disturbing is the pernicious intellectual comfort in which I basked throughout the elections due to Tiktok’s algorithmic filtering. Like countless Quebec voters, I was solely exposed to tailored content that aimed to captivate and satisfy me, which, as has been widely commented on, results in and reinforcing readers/viewers’ worldviews.
In the imagined by a group of AI futurists, “AI connects … like-minded people on occasion but also those of dissenting persuasions, to make them hear each other.” The current reality of digital social and political platforms such as Tiktok could not be further from this ideal. In my experience using Tiktok, I would classify most of my interactions with opposing political opinions into two categories: content so absurd that it is laughable for those who share my viewpoint, or compelling—at least superficially—arguments that are stitched by a person who shares my convictions and proceeds to deconstruct said argument. The Tiktok platform effectively cultivates the belief that arguments that diverge from our political affiliation are necessarily dubious and consequently forms complacent democratic actors with an aversion to the discomfort and challenge inherent in political debates. This trend is epitomized by a comment often left by users who watch a video that clashes with their beliefs: “I’m on the .”
The network effect is threatening digital political relationships
The idea that we belong to specific, almost hermetic, sides within digital common spaces is a manifestation of the perversion of the Internet that denounce: “[t]he power of the Internet comes from our relationships on it.” I realize, looking at my engagement on social media and Tiktok in particular, that my digital relationships are ridiculously limited, weak, and do not appreciably broaden my horizon. Platforms such as Tiktok that “collect data about us [to] make judgments about what is relevant, important, and visible” are inadequate infrastructures for public discourse, as they make us hear ourselves more than they make us hear each other, and some types of information .
According to philosopher and media scholar Ethan Zuckerman, “[w]hat is needed to countermand such tendencies is the creation of ‘digital public infrastructure’ [...] like creating parks and libraries for the internet [...] devised to inform us, structured to connect us to both people we agree with and people we disagree with, and encourage dialogue rather than simply reinforcing perceptions.” Such an infrastructure has not been developed or has not yet benefited from the . This dynamic of wanting to be where everyone else is currently favors privately owned platforms such as Tiktok, Facebook, and Twitter. These quasi monopolies make me, like many other users, unable to conceive of leaving these flawed channels of public discourse despite being aware of their flaws. While , Buchanan, and Imbrie argue that “democracies have the opportunity to forge a way of using AI that assures, rather than undermines, their ideals,” this feeling of no alternative maintained by the network effect could be an indicator that AI is burning in ways we cannot control while we are comfortably and amusingly basking in it.
“Complacency is the enemy of democracy. Education is the antidote to apathy.”
Cohn beautifully captures the essence of this call to action: “Complacency is the enemy of democracy. Education is the antidote to apathy.” If we want to forge a way of using AI that assures our democratic ideals, we need to understand how algorithms like Tiktok’s shape, hermitize, and polarize our political identities and thereby threaten democracy. We must overcome our state of pernicious comfort and learned helplessness and come together in conscious efforts towards a collective solution.
A notable example of a productive is that of the symposium on democracy at University of Toronto, which in November 2022 brought together high school students to discuss how digital platforms are affecting the political landscape in North America, and how massive majorities, the mass media, and outnumbered minorities fit into the equation. Cohn describes this project as a ray of hope amid a widespread indifference to the current vulnerability of Canadian democracy and the alarming rise of political polarization. As he points out, newspapers are the primary source of information about political developments and the state of democracy, but young people rarely read them. The symposium gave participants an alternative, exciting opportunity to critically examine their role as democratic actors and how this crucial responsibility is jeopardized by the personalized content they constantly and blindly consume. By raising awareness about the incompatibility of democratic governance and Tiktok’s algorithmic model, such educative activities may encourage participants who use it as a regular source of information to find or create more appropriate and productive platforms for political exchange.