Uncomplicated, evidence-based advice on what and when to post.
Clouds of controversy have attended much of the current government’s work programme, but one policy has been greeted with near universal acclaim: the ban on mobile phone use at school. So why stop there? Removing phones from another group of New Zealanders would surely enhance their learning environments, remove a distraction from callow minds and, especially, forestall the risk of user humiliation. The Spinoff called for this back in May, and it’s an appeal worth reissuing: it’s time to consider banning phones from politicians’ workplaces.
The latest teachable example: Labour MP Ginny Andersen was hit with poster’s regret after she shared on Instagram an image of King Charles and Christopher Luxon, with annotations drawing attention to the king’s trousers. You might think that King Charles’s trousers are objectively funny, and you might typically be right, but the particular joke in this particular post related to the fact that Charles’s cream suit gusset was folding under his crotch in the Samoan breeze in such a manner that it resembled – wait for it – a vagina.
Andersen deleted the “Kingussy” post and issued the obligatory bumf: “I shouldn’t have shared it. I regret doing so and apologise for any offence caused.” To which you might sigh: what’s wrong with a little regal genitalia humour? Or: Charles’s dad would have roared with laughter! Or: that’s not news, loser. But whatever the truth of any or all of that, there is one simple rule that would have saved the former police minister from the travails of Kingussygate.
Some years ago, this community-spirited periodical issued the unsolicited advice to politicians: Do Not Tweet, we said, was the golden rule. We now recognise that advice was insufficient, and apologise for any confusion caused. The better and more comprehensive rule, for Anderson and MPs all: Do Not Post.*
To which we add an important subclause: Do Not Like† or Fav or whatever, either. This is especially for the attention of Tory Whanau. You may think there’s nothing so harmless as a little click of support for those who want to vanquish your corrupt and twisted enemies, but as was last week made clear, no one is more feverishly scrolling through the comments looking for those little clicks than your corrupt and twisted enemies. In fact they’re almost as unhealthily online as you. Do Not Click.
And while you may think that Twitter is now just a giant vat of toilet bleach, that the only accounts remaining on the platform are Elon’s Maga Bot Army and two journalists debating a Palmerston North lawyer over whether the OECD should use the mean or the median average, but turns out there’s also at least one Labour MP, because there he is, retweeting (and soon unretweeting) a statement defending Hamas’s actions of October 7. Do Not Tweet. Do Not Retweet. Do Not Post.
There are a handful of exceptions. If you’re the prime minister, say, and you have seven social media expert gurus doing the work on your behalf, which equally means you can blame them if something goes wrong, fine. And, OK, you’re going to need to use social media if you’re a senior minister or party leader so that you can post your enthusiasms directly to the public without the unwelcome interruptions of journalists and their “questions” or “facts”. You should certainly use Facebook to make Tolstoyesque declamations if you’re Gaurav Sharma. Pics from community fairs are usually fine. Obviously, there is a carve-out for wildman mayors remonstrating against and manhandling road cones.
But if you want to be sure, the simple rule is this: Do Not Post. Wishing you were out on the harbour while in a meeting with disability advocates? Do Not Post. Struck by an image of a political opponent with shit pouring out of their eyes? Do Not Post. Enjoying a song but not 500% certain it doesn’t contain the lyric, “Who fuckin’ tonight?” Do Not Post. Struck by a story from an unfamiliar foreign website accusing the French president of protecting paedophiles and think you could use that to attack your own political opponent? Do Not Post. If you’re tempted, first survey the graves of those who Did.
Want to know if anyone is tweeting about you? Fair enough, but, obviously, use the search field. Do Not Post.
Even if you’re thinking of one day entering politics, be safe: Do Not Post. Especially if what’s on your mind is something like, “the globalist mantra .agender 21 ,is the redistribution of wealth, from rich countries to poor .The destruction of self determination and belief in lue of a collective equality by which all people’s can be monitored and controlled. Globalism is soft communism”.
However tempting that dopamine hit might be, however satisfying it might be to slam your enemies, however seized you might be by an opportunity to prove to your high school tormentors that you are in fact funny and popular, don’t do it. The reputational cost-benefit analysis never stacks up. You have much more to lose than to gain, and the only people really paying attention are your political nemeses, trolls and hardworking journalists. Put it down. Go for a walk. Play a sea shanty. Make a delicious sandwich. A simple rule – three words to live by: Do Not Post. Or if that’s too much to remember, two: Don’t Post.
If you absolutely can’t resist, post it to Threads. It’s highly unlikely anyone will see it. But better still, take a leaf out of the book of once prolific shitposter Francisco Hernandez, who, upon becoming an MP, bucked the trend among Green backbenchers of late, absolved his former self and made a good decision. That decision? Stop tweeting. Touch grass. Do Not Post.
* “Posting” is not limited to the online world. It equally applies to, for example, making what you consider to be hilarious Ricky Gervais level gags at wineries, especially when they involve spelling the letter “L” with your hand by planting it on your own forehead. Don’t do that.
† This is strictly in the context of social media “likes”. In the more general sense, liking things is good.