Should Christians still be on X?

Speaking at a conference recently on communication, I was asked the stark question - “Should Christians still be on X?”  

The question caught me by surprise. X, formerly Twitter, captures a large portion of the social media market, with millions of users daily. At the click of a button, one can spread a message to a far greater audience than one can hope to address offline. The opportunities would make the hearts of great 20th century evangelists sing.  

On the other hand, there are plenty of good reasons for anyone to leave X. The platform can be exhausting, angry and addictive. Elon Musk’s takeover of the platform in 2022 was excellent for the liberation of free speech from censorial overlords, where users were previously banned for stating simple truths like “men cannot become women”. Yet in the aftermath, the swing towards uncensored speech has also exposed the dark ugliness of the human heart.   

Conversations that might once have been genuine disagreements between human beings can become tribal shouting matches between avatars. For some, an ability to hide behind a keyboard has allowed anonymous humans to showcase the worst outpourings of sinful souls – spewing racist, misogynistic bile. The fact that most of these accounts are fake bots does nothing to ease the user experience. Outrage travels faster than wisdom, mockery is often rewarded with attention, and the temptation to measure our worth by likes, reposts and followers is hardly compatible with the Christian understanding of human dignity.  

Yet X is hardly unique in this respect. Any social media platform can encourage comparison, vanity, distrust, abuse, envy, rage and an unhealthy appetite for the approval of strangers. Christians should be honest about that. There are times when the wisest thing to do is to put the phone down.  

We learn nothing from one another by remaining in silos

There are also legitimate concerns about what happens on X itself. Ofcom has investigated whether X did enough to mitigate the spread of sexually explicit deepfakes. As an avid user myself, I fell victim to my own image being exploited in a compromising “deepfake”. The damaging trend has been satisfactorily dealt with and ended; but it’s fair to say that none of this makes X a particularly holy environment.  

But then, neither is the world.  

The Christian calling has never been to spend our lives exclusively in places where everyone is already perfect. Far less are we to spend our time only with those who agree with us. Jesus did not spread his message by avoiding sinners. He ate with tax collectors, and engaged with the outcast woman at the well - to the considerable annoyance of the religious establishment of his day. When challenged about it, he explained that it is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.  

After all, despite the worst-case examples being frequently showcased by those who oppose the platform, the majority of users are normal, considerate, rational, everyday humans who don’t necessarily leave comments or footprints on what they’ve read. When you post on X, it’s best to ignore the bots and trolls, and think instead about the engagement you are having with thousands of silent observers – intelligent peers, open to considering your view.   

If Christians withdraw from every public space because that space contains some bad ideas, bad language or bad behaviour, where exactly are we expecting the light to shine?  

Of course, we should exercise discernment. Nobody is obliged to remain on a platform that is damaging their mental health, consuming their time or tempting them into sin. A Christian who discovers that X makes them perpetually angry or distracted may be doing something spiritually healthy by leaving it. But that is an argument for self-control, not necessarily for collective retreat.  

The question should perhaps be less “Is X a good place?” and more “What am I doing there?”  

Are we using it to bear false witness about people we dislike? Are we addicted to the approval of strangers? Are we spending hours arguing over trivialities while neglecting the people God has actually placed in our lives? Are we becoming so accustomed to outrage that we can no longer see the image of God in the person on the other side of the screen?  

Or are we there to speak truth and grace into a fallen world in need of hope?  

Whether Christians should engage on X is a question that needs context as to the motivation and intent. I suspect that at times, those who ask the question are more dubious of right-wing politics and beliefs than the platform itself. If that’s the case, then all the more reason for them to engage, challenge and debate. We learn nothing from one another by remaining in silos.   

While Instagram may host a wider number of users, X is undoubtedly the capital forum on the market for political discourse. Such central forums have always been problematic. The physical forums of ancient Rome were places of intellect and violence in equal measure. Philosophical debates often spilled over into brutal brawls. The bustling epicentre of Pompeii was a place for lawyers and scholars to congregate, but it was also lined with prostitutes and pornographic graffiti. Forums throughout history – offline or online – betray the messiness of the human condition – brains, hearts, warts and all.  

By engaging on the platform, we have the opportunity to reach across communities and societies with truth and hope. We can call out wrongdoing while elevating those who point to Christ. In doing so, we can reach far more unseen hearts and minds than our earlier Church ancestors could possibly think or imagine. That, in my view, is a mission platform worth taking hold of.