What the Downfall of Science Twitter Has Taught Me About Our Time on Social Media
The death spiral of Science Twitter feels personal. Surely that is not just me?
For many of us, Science Twitter wasn’t just a platform. It was a community… a home in the digital world where early-career scientists found mentors, journalists uncovered story leads, collaborations formed across oceans, and memes about academia went viral alongside groundbreaking papers.
But as algorithms shifted, and management changed, this virtual town square crumbled as ‘the vibe’ became less welcoming. I no longer was primarily interacting with other curious people but was busy blocking sex bots and white supremacists. The death spiral was slow to begin with and then sped up like a runaway train wreck you just couldn’t look away from. I stuck around for longer than many of my peers did, primarily scheduling my tweets so I could stay ‘relevant’ but not really engage with the trolls. My followers went from 26k to 24k practically overnight with the “X-odus” as people fled the increasingly hostile platform.
Part of me wanted to stay, to challenge myself to bring science communication to a space that once thrived with it. To take head on those who denied climate change and DEI efforts! But in the interest of my own mental health - and, let’s be honest, safety - I decided it wasn’t worth the time or effort. As a science communicator, I know when I won’t get anywhere with my efforts… this was one winning-less battle.
In December 2024, I finally announced I would be keeping my handle but no longer active on the platform. I post career highlights, book news, and share my Forbes articles… but otherwise I no longer do “Shark Tooth Tuesday,” “Name That Shark,” or “ID That Ocean Critter.” Since then, I’ve found myself reflecting on what this era has taught me about how we use social media — and how we can move forward.
1. Social Media Is Borrowed Space
Twitter wasn’t built for science, yet we shaped it into something meaningful. We turned hashtags like #sharkscience, #scicomm, and #comunicaciencia into little pockets of discovery and inspiration. But that sense of ownership was an illusion because at the end of the day, platforms like Twitter exist to serve their creators and shareholders, not their communities. This realization is bittersweet. It reminds me that as much as we pour into these digital spaces, they are ultimately out of our control. And so, the lesson here is clear: we need to diversify where we invest our energy and build communities that don’t rely solely on corporate platforms. It’s why people tell creators all the time that the only ‘platform’ you truly will ever own is your e-mail list and why people desperately need one.
2. The Value of Intentional Community
What made Science Twitter special wasn’t the platform but the people. It was the shared enthusiasm for asking big questions, solving problems, and making the world a little bit better. I loved being able to go to conferences and already have friends to hang out with because I had talked to them online for months! I remember the first time meeting Angelo Villagomez, David Shiffman, Andrew Lewin in Malaysia “for real life” as Bluey says. If you had seen us talking, you would’ve thought we were all long-time friends. And we were! But this was the first time I was actually meeting them in the flesh after years of conversing online.
As Science Twitter fragmented, I’ve seen these personal connections scatter to Mastodon, Threads, BlueSky, Discord, and other digital spaces — or even offline. No longer are we all just on one platform and this scattering feels chaotic. But, I guess, it’s also an opportunity to rebuild with intention. How can we create spaces that prioritize accessibility, inclusivity, and meaningful conversation? How can we genuinely encourage collaboration over competition, bring in those voices that were sometimes drowned out in Twitter due to follower count?
3. Boundaries Are Essential
Social media is a double-edged sword. It amplifies voices, but it also invites criticism, harassment, and burnout. The downfall of Science Twitter has forced me to reevaluate my own relationship with these platforms, giving way to my “year of no” mantra I talked about in a previous Substack. Do I really need to weigh in on every conversation? How much of my day should be shaped by the doom scroll?
I’ve started setting firmer boundaries. I log off earlier, resist the urge to post every thought, and focus on creating content with a purpose. For some of the platforms, I don’t even have the app downloaded on my phone! These boundaries help me prioritize quality over quantity and preserve my mental health — something I wish I had done earlier.
4. Connection Isn’t Just Digital
Losing a platform reminds us how fragile online connections can be. But my mission to evoke curiosity in our natural world isn’t tied to a single platform. It’s tied to the connections I make and the conversations I spark — whether those happen online or off.
5. The Power of Adaptation
Perhaps the most important lesson of all from this whole debacle is resilience. The science community adapted to the rise of Twitter, and we’re adapting to its downfall. We’ve always found ways to connect, share, and collaborate, and we will again! This ability to essentially be ‘reborn’ as a science community is a reminder that while platforms may change, the spirit of curiosity and collaboration that defines science will endure. Social media platforms be damned!
I still grieve the loss of Science Twitter. It was a place where my love for science and communication blossomed and where I felt the pulse of a global community. But the lessons it has taught me are invaluable: to value the people over the platform, to set and stand firm in my boundaries, and to nurture connections so that they can extend beyond the digital. As we navigate the future of social media, I’m hopeful that we’ll build spaces that reflect our values and remember what made Science Twitter special in the first place: the people.
For now, I’m taking it one step at a time — finding new corners of the internet to call home, exploring unique (and authentic-to-me) ways to connect, and keeping my focus on what matters most: sharing the wonders of science with the world.
What about you? How has the downfall of Science Twitter changed how you approach social media? I’d love to hear your thoughts—because even as the platforms shift, our conversations are what truly matter.
You do magnificent work! 👏