Social media isn’t a game you can win by sitting still. It’s a ride, a rhythm, a dance—or perhaps more aptly, a mosh pit. Step into the swirling chaos, and you’ll be shoved, lifted, and spun, sometimes against your will. Stand still too long, and you risk being trampled. Watch from the sidelines, and you’ll never grasp its true tempo. This is the nature of our digital agora—a maelstrom designed to sweep you in, not a stage for passive observation.
Yet within this chaos lies structure, a court of public opinion governed by algorithms and emotional resonance. Success requires more than participation; it demands an intimate understanding of the court’s pulse. Those who thrive in this arena wield influence like a conductor wields a baton, orchestrating the rhythm of discourse and wielding authority within the swirling tides of attention.
The Rise and Fall of Hawk Tuah
Consider the case of Hawk Tuah, better known as Haliey Welch. Her meteoric rise was propelled by a viral video in which says the phrase “hawk tuah”. For reasons that indicate the rapid decline of civilization, the video and phrase captivated millions and launched her into the digital spotlight.
While her fame was accidental, a team of professionals quickly formed around her, recognizing her potential to exploit the influencer landscape. This team orchestrated her next moves, helping her launch a podcast called Talk Tuah and develop a memecoin called $HAWK. Adding further visibility, Jake Paul publicly backed both her podcast and the cryptocurrency venture.
The coin initially soared, reaching a market capitalization of $490 million. However, within hours, it crashed by 91%, wiping out the investments of thousands and triggering widespread outrage. The backlash was swift and brutal. Allegations of a pump-and-dump scheme emerged, with claims that insider wallets controlled a significant portion of the coin’s supply from the outset. Welch and her team denied the accusations, insisting that neither they nor Jake Paul sold tokens and that measures were in place to prevent manipulation. Regardless, the damage was done. Investors were left reeling, and Welch’s reputation was irrevocably tarnished.
Social Media as a Dynamic Court
Hawk Tuah’s story illustrates the duality of social media authority. On one hand, it’s an unparalleled platform for amplifying voices and building influence. On the other, it’s an unforgiving arena where missteps are magnified and misdeeds have swift consequences. The court of public opinion, amplified by the algorithms, is both audience and executioner.
To navigate this space successfully, one must remain attuned to its rhythm. This isn’t about cynically manipulating trends; it’s about understanding the currents and contributing to them with integrity. Hawk Tuah faltered not because she played the game, but because the game exposed the fragility of her trust with her audience. In the mosh pit of social media, trust is your armor, your currency, and your survival.
Social media isn’t a static institution; it’s an evolving organism. It rewards movement, engagement, and adaptability while punishing complacency and dishonesty. To step into this maelstrom is to accept its risks and responsibilities. Those who succeed do so by moving with intention, cultivating trust, and wielding their influence with care.
Hawk Tuah’s rise and fall is a reminder that authority in this space is both earned and ephemeral. The mosh pit is relentless, the rhythm ever-changing, and only those who move wisely can hope to endure. If you choose to step into the fray, understand this: you’re not just joining a dance; you’re shaping the future of authority.
Side Bar: Talking Talking Talk Tuah
Welch’s podcast, Talk Tuah, was eclipsed by a podcast that talked about her podcast called Talking Talk Tuah. Then there was a Talking Talking Talk Tuah bit: