How I snapped out of working at Snapchat.
I once worked for a social media company, which you might deduce from the title of this story. On my first day, all of us newbies were required to sit in a circle surrounded by rocks and incense, overseen by group guides known as council facilitators, who resembled shamans in long flowy dresses. As a rock circulated among us, we were encouraged to express gratitude and share our feelings openly, aiming to foster unity and a culture of vulnerability. However, this experience felt odd, and I never truly felt safe, despite outward assurances.
Subsequently, I ascended to a higher location near Laurel Canyon, Snap had an old house in the hills for bigger gathering and extra mural activities. I felt like I was on set of Eyes wide shut sans fornication and eye masks. Upon entering the house there where smaller groups engaged in emotional sessions filled with tears and embraces. Remarkably, this was just my initiation week, an apparent induction into what felt like a fringe, cult-like environment. Yet, this peculiar ritual seemed consistent with what I believe happens in many Silicon Valley startups, where newcomers are gradually immersed in the company’s culture where you all eventually drink from the proverbial fountain of cool aid.
Initially, I was enchanted, believing I had found the promised land. I was finally out of the wilderness and inside an office kitchen which stocked more than milk and honey. You name it, it was there. Not only an abundance of treats, far beyond basic necessities, but my stay was complemented by excellent perks, substantial benefits, and enticing branded merchandise and technology. The allure soon wore off as I observed more intently. Like many social media firms, the company’s narrative served as a magnetic force, retaining employees with the promise of fulfilling a noble mission. While companies should aspire to lofty goals (their “north star”), they must also remain truthful in their intentions.
Although Snapchat claims that 95% of its users experience happiness while engaging with the app, according to its “internal research”, this statistic is nothing short of misleading, suggesting a dependency rather than genuine contentment. The app isn’t designed to create a happy world, it’s designed to fire up your dopamine levels which in turn create a sense of stimulation and joy. It’s not real joy, it’s manufactured. And this is the thing with Snap, out of all the social media networks they hide behind this statistic like they are doing some kind of benevolent good in the world. They aren’t. The app is designed to stimulate dopamine release, creating an illusion of happiness rather than fostering genuine joy. Snapchat, among other networks, maintains an aura of beneficence, yet it merely excels in marketing and storytelling. Recently Snap ran a brand campaign which rejects social media and instead highlights the app as “a place for real relationships, fun and joy” under the campaign line of: “Less social media. More Snapchat”. The irony with that line is Snap was recently part of a senate deposition under the banner of being a social media company. Robert Karel says it best in an article published on Linkedin, “I guess it’s not shocking that Juul chose to mislead the market and disassociate itself with other nicotine product manufacturers because let’s face it, Big Tobacco isn’t necessarily the poster child of an attractive, low-risk market. Juul chose the “if you can’t join them, confuse them” approach to marketing. And now it looks like Snapchat is trying to do the same thing.”
Inside the company, a pervasive sense of self-importance prevailed, as if setting the industries moral compass benchmark. While other platforms like Meta (formerly Facebook), Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter (now X) have their transparent flaws — political tampering, connections to China, moderation of one particular political agenda etc, Snapchat seemed to masquerade as the exemplary student in chinos with a tied sweater worn over the shoulder. But these kind of kids always eventually make the news for some sinister practice that daddy and mommy had no clue their child was involved in. However, the reality often unveils that such seemingly impeccable entities are involved in questionable activities.
Snapchat’s ultimate goal, like its peers, is to captivate users’ attention. The app’s augmented reality (AR) lenses, which alter users’ appearances, contradict messages of self-acceptance, instead promoting an idealized and altered self-image. These features, including lenses that can transform one’s face to appear as a different gender, younger, or even as a baby, subtly manipulate users’ perceptions of self and beauty.
Realising the true nature of these practices, I decided to leave the company. Reflecting on my experiences, especially during the final council meeting, I wished I had symbolically shattered the illusion by throwing the ritualistic rock through a window, hoping to awaken others to the reality I perceived.
