The Age of The Social Paradox

Bold self-promotion and risk aversion are both increasing

In an era saturated with social media platforms and personal-brand building, you might expect a steep rise in the average person’s desire to stand out. After all, every swipe of the thumb reveals meticulously curated Instagram feeds, viral TikTok dances, and a seemingly endless supply of aspiring YouTubers.

But paradoxically, our culture is fostering new forms of seemingly bold self-promotion while also becoming more risk averse.

A recent large-scale study of more than 1 million subjects led by William Chopik at Michigan State University has found that the desire to stand out or be unique has sharply declined over the past 20 years. Yet at the same time, poll after poll shows that a substantial number of young people list “influencer” or “Youtuber” as their dream job.

How do we reconcile these conflicting trends?

A fascinating new book, “The Social Paradox: Autonomy, Connection, and Why We Need Both to Find Happiness” by William von Hippel, a social psychologist, offers some insight. Drawing from decades of research in social and evolutionary psychology, von Hippel argues that human beings are pulled by two needs: autonomy (our desire to control our own life) and connection (our need to belong). For our hunter-gatherer ancestors, connection took precedence because small, close-knit communities depended on collaboration and mutual trust. Personal freedom in such societies was constrained by interdependent reliance on kin and friends.

Over time, however, modern lifestyles have elevated autonomy at the expense of connection, leaving many people struggling to balance these twin drives.

Von Hippel argues that the pursuit of autonomy often comes with a trade-off: If we want both independence and companionship, we may feel the need to influence or control others to align with our preferences. We want to live on our own terms, but we also don’t want to be alone — so we might try to guide others toward our way of thinking or doing things. As he puts it, “Only when others conform to your preferences can you meet all your autonomy needs while maintaining your connections.” But this approach is rarely sustainable. Relationships built on control rather than mutual understanding create tension and, ultimately, a hollow sense of connection.

It may sound paradoxical, but this very drive for autonomy actually evolved for social purposes: We strive for personal success in order to be seen as an appealing person to potential romantic partners, friends, and allies. The problem, though, is that we haven’t quite figured out how to reconcile our amplified sense of individualism with our need for warm, enduring connections.

This is true even for highly accomplished people. Von Hippel calls such situations “sad success stories” — situations in which people’s achievements feel hollow because they don’t have a close network of friends or family members to share them with.

This tension between connection and autonomy can help us to understand how it is possible that people want to both fit in and stand out. In the aforementioned large-scale study, the authors suggest that in the era of social media, being too conspicuous risks censure, public humiliation, or cancellation. Thus, people increasingly prefer to stay in the middle of the pack rather than invite unwanted scrutiny.

Yet there’s also the aforementioned surge in young people who want to become influencers — placing themselves deliberately in the public eye.

The key factor explaining this apparent contradiction is control, or autonomy.

Refusing to stand out in day-to-day life does not mean giving up the dream of curated fame. TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram encourage aspiring stars to craft an image in an environment they control — editing out awkward moments, rehearsing lines, or filming multiple takes until they achieve the desired effect. They may be building an audience, but they’re doing so on their own terms. This meets the needs for autonomy and connection.

As one commentator put it in a post circulating online, everything you see online isn’t real life, even if it looks like it. In other words, a well-lit, expertly edited live stream isn’t the same as seeing someone in the unpredictability of actual everyday life. The performance — even when deemed “authentic” — remains at least partially staged.

We still crave genuine human connection just as our ancestors did, but modern autonomy, along with the technologies that enable it, has complicated the way we go about seeking it.

Social media has become both the stage and the shield for a generation of would-be influencers. We shouldn’t mistake those carefully curated profiles for true boldness. They in fact reflect a deep, underlying caution — an acknowledgment that in this digital age, one misstep can follow you forever.

The very real risk of being watched, recorded, and judged may be driving people to be more risk-averse. But as long as we’re the ones holding the smartphone and editing the final cut, a dash of daring still feels possible. That, in a sense, is how many people today attempt to balance autonomy and connection.

But perhaps the worst thing about social media is how it makes us both cautious and lazy in our social lives. Why go to a party when you can just scroll and comment from your couch? Why make the effort to grab coffee or drinks with someone when FaceTime is right there? This kind of social laziness is especially tempting when the outcome is uncertain — when you don’t know many people at the event or aren’t sure who’s going to show up. In those moments, the convenience of social media can easily outweigh the potential (but uncertain) rewards of showing up in person.

The result is a world where people are more connected than ever, yet lonelier than ever. The unpredictability of face-to-face interactions — the awkward pauses, the offhand jokes, the spontaneous connections — cannot be replicated through a screen.

That’s the real paradox of our time. Young people today have more platforms than ever to present themselves to the world, yet less willingness to engage with it in real life. They want to be seen, but only on their own terms.

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This article was originally published by the Boston Globe under the title “A Gen Z paradox: To influence or not influence?”