“The culture of blocking” and its global echo effect

The voice of the world is no longer heard in the streets. It resonates behind screens. Social media, once considered a simple tool for sharing daily moments, has transformed into an arena of public conscience, protest, and accountability. Here, a single post, a moment of silence, or even a “block” can shift the mindset of millions. The #Blockout2024 campaign, which spread rapidly in the spring of 2024, became one of the most striking manifestations of this new power.

Against the glamorous backdrop of the Met Gala stood the ruins, pain, and silence of Gaza. A jarring contrast between spectacle and suffering. While celebrities posed in extravagant outfits, people elsewhere were struggling simply to survive. This time, the unseen majority of social media users chose to speak not with words, but with the “block” button.

The #Blockout2024 hashtag quickly evolved into a global digital protest. Users began systematically blocking celebrities and brands that remained silent in the face of war, turning the act of blocking into a moral statement. The message was clear: “Silence is no longer neutral.” In today’s digital age, silence itself has become a stance and at times, even a form of guilt. Online audiences have started expecting not just aesthetic pleasure from influencers and public figures, but moral responsibility.

Once seen as representatives of culture, celebrities have now become symbols of ethical behavior and public conscience. Failing to post, to respond, or to react is no longer viewed as politeness but as cold detachment. This shift has shaken not only the way people communicate, but the very structure of social relationships.

Yet a deeper question lingers: does this newfound “power to block” truly create justice, or does it merely reinvent outrage in a digital form?

Social media was originally built on the ideals of communication and freedom of expression. Yet over time, that very freedom has evolved into a system of public scrutiny, mass protests, and moral tribunals. Today, the average user is no longer just a spectator but also a judge, a jury, and an executor. In this context, the “block” button represents more than a personal boundary. It has become a new instrument of collective justice.

Sociologist Manuel Castells, in his book Networks of Outrage and Hope (2012), argues that the primary arena of protest in modern times has shifted from the streets to digital platforms. People can now exert political, cultural, and social pressure without ever leaving their homes through hashtags instead of banners. The #Blockout2024 movement exemplified this transformation, marking a point where individual action turned into collective power.

The campaign also revealed a broader cultural shift: ethical responsibility is no longer confined to states or institutions. Society now demands accountability from celebrities as well. Zygmunt Bauman’s concept of liquid modernity (2000) becomes strikingly relevant here, boundaries in contemporary life have grown fluid, and notions of citizenship and responsibility are increasingly shaped by online interactions.

Yet this new form of digital power carries its own risks. When collective emotion overrides reflection, nuance and intent can easily be lost. A shared moral stance can swiftly turn into a wave of collective anger. During #Blockout2024, some public figures faced backlash not for their actions, but for being misunderstood. This recalls Emile Durkheim’s notion of collective conscience: the moral unity that binds a society can, at times, become the very force that condemns it.

The new power of social media both judges and delivers justice. The crowd no longer merely observes. It reacts, condemns, forgives, or cancels. This transformation has redefined classical models of power. Once centralized and hierarchical, authority now belongs to the multitude. Yet this multitude is not always stable, nor inherently just.

The #Blockout2024 movement revealed a dramatic shift in the center of ethical pressure: no longer the official courtroom, but the social media tribunal. It is both a democratic and paradoxical process because while people have gained the freedom to voice their opinions, that very freedom can also become a weapon of digital lynching.
The key question now is whether this new “justice mechanism” truly delivers justice, or merely legitimizes collective outrage.

The issue extends far beyond politics and war. The #Blockout2024 campaign demonstrated that ethical values have become an inseparable part of culture itself. When a celebrity remains silent in the face of moral or humanitarian crises, their art becomes overshadowed by that silence. Aesthetic value and social responsibility are no longer separate domains. The absence of one diminishes the meaning of the other.

While the campaign may have symbolized an awakening of social conscience, it also exposed the fragile boundaries of “digital justice.” Here, punishment operates outside the courtroom, beyond evidence or dialogue dictated instead by the emotional momentum of the crowd.

When ethics and anger merge, an invisible yet fragile line always emerges. On social media, that line becomes even more blurred. People often believe they are acting out of a sense of justice, yet their actions are frequently driven by emotional impulse. Someone might be blocked for staying silent but that silence could stem from fear, trauma, or simply a desire not to speak. In this way, moral judgment slowly replaces empathy.

Sociologist Sarah Banet-Weiser, in her book Empowered: Popular Feminism and Popular Misogyny (2018), notes that digital activism can serve as both a source of empowerment and aggression. Online struggles often rely less on genuine dialogue and more on symbolic visibility who appears “righteous,” and who remains “silent.”

At the same time, blocking itself is an act of power. To block a person or a brand is to symbolically erase their presence to declare that they no longer exist in one’s digital universe. It is both an assertion of personal freedom and a tool of collective punishment. Yet this raises a profound question: who has the right to punish whom? In the digital realm, who holds that authority, the state, the platform, or the sudden outrage of millions of users?

From a philosophical standpoint, this recalls Michel Foucault’s concept of discipline and punishment. Foucault argued that in modern societies, power no longer resides in overt acts of punishment but in systems of surveillance and control. Social media represents a new form of that surveillance. Today, one need not imprison a person to punish them, erasure from the public eye is often enough.

This dynamic is perilous both socially and psychologically. Even when digital lynching begins with seemingly just intentions, it ultimately silences individual voices. The crowd may feel momentarily relieved, yet the underlying problems persist. Justice sometimes merges with vengeance, empathy with outrage. The pressing question remains: does this “ethics of blocking” truly change the world, or does it merely soothe collective conscience?

A 2023 study by the Stanford Internet Observatory found that over 70% of global misinformation circulates on social media, with only 14% later being corrected. This demonstrates how falsehood spreads faster and convinces more effectively than truth.

The history of global social media scandals reflects not only technology but human nature itself. The Cambridge Analytica scandal revealed how easily mass manipulation can occur, while the Twitter Files exposed how political powers manage information under the guise of transparency. These events underscore a fundamental truth: digital independence is largely an illusion. Algorithms quietly shape the invisible architecture of reality.

“Trends” have become a new form of truth. The louder a voice, the more likely it is to be deemed correct. Social platforms prioritize attention over ethics, reaction over reality. Individual identities are compressed under the “like” button, while thoughts remain as fleeting as a post or as shallow as a comment.

In this context, global social media scandals demonstrate how entire societies, not just individuals, can be swayed with astonishing ease. Careers can be destroyed by a single trend, governments pressured by a single hashtag. Amid the chaos of the digital sphere, discerning truth becomes increasingly difficult.

Against this backdrop, the ultimate question arises: will social media serve the development of human consciousness, or will it deepen the postmodern chaos often described as “the end of truth”?

Nigar Shahverdiyeva
Sociologist, Research Writer