I stumbled on a post that retold the story away from the unwritten rule, norm, and ideal that equates honour and esteem with silence, indifference, and the assumption that posters are ordinary, cheap, and unsophisticated.
It seems that not posting on social media, especially on public platforms, is consciously or unconsciously read as “big man” syndrome. The tendency is to see posters not as noble volunteers but as downtrodden labourers who owe us voluntary service.
This is why many celebrities, or self-adjudged big men, hide inside group platforms without ever daring to comment, connect with members, condole the grieving, share opinion, interact with followers, influence, or extend a hand of fellowship that inspires, connects, and invites positive emotion. Yet, it’s said, even a smile is charity.
Many so-called big men lurk in group platforms, too scared or too self-important to post. Then they occasionally surface to complain about debates or “over-posting,” portraying silence and the failure to respond to condolence messages, birthday wishes, or distress calls as more honourable for their status. They wait for one complaint, then in haste to escape a guilty conscience or justify the practice, they call out posters as distractors, as if a WhatsApp post can stop anyone from working when there is always the option not to read or pay attention.
While confusion persists about whether there is status or sophistication attached to a culture of detachment from group members, the one that makes people feel cheap or low for merely passing a comment, the growing global debate on character and the standards used to tag a villain is capable of retelling the story, reshaping character, and altering perceptions of nobility.
Law and Society Magazine just ran a feature with a fascinating caption: _“Richer than Musk: Joyce Carol Oates on her 88 years of watching…”_
It reads: “That is what happened last November when she got into what Forbes magazine described as a ‘fierce online feud’ with Elon Musk, ‘roasting him on his own platform ’, according to one literary magazine, with the tweet: ‘So curious that such a wealthy man never posts anything that indicates that he enjoys or is even aware of what virtually everyone appreciates like scenes from nature, pet dog or cat, praise for a movie, music, a book (but doubt that he reads); pride in a friend’s or relative’s accomplishment; condolences for someone who has died; pleasure in sports, acclaim for a favorite team; references to history. In fact he seems totally uneducated, uncultured. The poorest persons on Twitter may have access to more beauty & meaning in life than the ‘most wealthy person in the world.’’”[X]
Theoretical frameworks help us decode this. Erving Goffman’s presentation of self, argues that identity is performed through interaction; silence on platforms where others perform connection becomes a performance of distance. Similarly, social capital theory, as articulated by Pierre Bourdieu and later Robert Putnam, insists that trust, networks, and norms of reciprocity are built through repeated, visible engagement. Detachment starves social capital. Research findings from the Pew Research Center on digital life consistently show that perceived authenticity and responsiveness increase trust in public figures by up to 43%, while sustained silence correlates with declining favorability, especially among younger demographics.
It got me thinking about what many so-called “big men” are guilty of, or confused about, regarding the ideal on social platforms, class platforms, old-school groups, alumni forums, and others. Can’t these people be free? Why are they so shy, and from whom are they hiding?
Ironically, these platforms and networks do a lot of good for emotional capital, symbolism, and mutual influence. Daniel Goleman’s work on emotional intelligence reminds us that empathy and social skill are not luxuries of leadership but its prerequisites. To lead is to be seen feeling.
For instance, I belong to one platform where I suspect a popular Kaduna senator and activist is active. I observe that despite politicians being mostly despised due to failure to meet expectations, the man is like an idol on the platform. Many times I see members resort to passionate prayers during primary elections and other moments, as if they benefit directly from him. This is because they feel connected to him: liable, psychologically bonded to defend him, and invested enough to feel personal gain in his progress and loss in his grief. What we witness is what Benedict Anderson called “imagined communities” collapsing distance into intimacy; what Sherry Turkle warns could be shallow, here becomes a reservoir of loyalty.
Social media therefore becomes a vital space for connecting with millions, far and near, creating familiarity that makes people feel you are accessible. That accessibility builds trust, confidence, positive emotion, and even a distant perception of closeness, shared friendship, identity, and ties. As communication scholar Joseph Walther’s social information processing theory demonstrates, people compensate for the absence of nonverbal cues online by hyper-attending to whatever cues remain, a like, a condolence, a joke. Small acts loom large.
The truth is that love and admiration are often inspired by perception or feelings of familiarity, shared memory, interaction, connection, relationship, and understanding. That is why people would mostly choose someone they have come across, whether by chance or at certain times like old friends, classmates, over unknown faces: because of emotional connection. Psychologists call this the “mere exposure effect,” validated by Zajonc’s research: familiarity breeds affinity.
What is clear from the story is that Elon Musk seems to have earned negative emissions from perceived indifference, because to many, silence or indifference is the “big man” way. He may have lost the opportunity embedded in symbolism, the chance, even occasionally, to make members feel worthy of interaction, to inspire them with empathy, to give a sense of belonging and add value. The poorest persons on Twitter, as Oates noted, may indeed have access to more beauty and meaning because they trade in the currency of attention.
Being a big man means an opportunity to exert one’s authority by leading, contributing to discourse, offering guidance, even joking, if only to make people feel good. For as the saying goes, even a smile is charity, and it is the least that the big man or wealthy man can offer to the so-called downtrodden, rather than disregard or distance, especially when proximity is already a fact. It is not less a snub.
Bagudu can be reached via bagudumohammed15197@gmail.com or 07034943575.
