jordan pulse -

Prof. Dr Ali Hayassat
Let us stop the courtesies. Our real problem is not social media, nor “algorithms,” nor even the other party we constantly accuse of influencing us. Our problem is that we do not think enough, and that we have grown accustomed to acting collectively instead of thinking individually.
We use WhatsApp, Facebook, X, and other social media platforms with the tools of the twenty-first century, but with the mindset of the eighth and ninth centuries AD (the second and third centuries AH): a mindset based on subordination, fear of difference, and seeking protection in the group. That is why any digital space we enter is quickly transformed into a digital version of the worst aspects of our reality.
Take WhatsApp groups as a clear example. These groups are rarely run by reason or purpose, but by the loudest voice. A small minority writes excessively, imposes its rhythm, and floods the group with messages that add no knowledge and produce no discussion. No one asks for this, and no one objects. The majority remains silent, not because it agrees, but because it has learned that silence is less costly than debate, or even than thinking about the content or form of these messages.
Here, WhatsApp is no longer a communication tool, but a soft instrument of subjugation. Whoever sends more controls more. Whoever asks questions embarrasses others. But whoever objects, or even discusses, is suppressed. Quite simply.
What happens in these small groups is a miniature version of what happens in the public sphere. A single Facebook post can turn an individual opinion into a “public stance,” not because it is correct, but because it spreads. Then an opposing opinion appears and turns into another wave. In both cases, no one asks: Is this logical? Is it accurate? Do we even have sufficient information?
The controversy that arose in Jordan over the American ambassador offering condolences at the diwan of one of the tribes was not a political or diplomatic crisis, but a test of the public mind, and we failed it. We did not fail because we disagreed, but because we did not think. We quickly split, lined up, raised our voices, and fought a symbolic battle, while the fundamental questions about context, meaning, and the separation between the humanitarian and the political were absent.
This behavior is not new, but today it is more dangerous, because the speed of platforms amplifies and rewards it. Social media does not force us to be a herd, but it tempts us to be one. It rewards emotional reactions and punishes deliberation, giving space to those who shout rather than those who think.
More dangerous still is that we cloak this behavior in a moral, religious, or social cover, as if critical thinking were a suspicious act, as if questioning were betrayal, and as if difference were a threat to social cohesion. In this way, we do not only kill debate; we kill the mind itself.
Until we have the courage to reread our history not as a sacred past, but as a human experience open to error and revision, we will remain prisoners of the herd mentality. In truth, we are not backward so much as we are different from other nations. The backward can catch up, as many peoples have done. But the different will never catch up, because they are not moving slowly; they are moving stubbornly in the opposite direction of science, knowledge, and the scientific method of thinking.
And whoever chooses this path must stop asking why we have fallen behind. The answer is clear: because we decided not to think.