Getting Comfortable in the Chaos: Why I’m Staying on X
There’s been a lot of noise recently about Corporations, NGOs and Politicians leaving X following reports that AI Grok has been used to generate pornographic images. I understand the reaction. I really do. Walking away feels principled. Clean. Like drawing a line in the sand and saying, “Not on my watch.”
And believe me, I’ve wrestled with this myself.
But after sitting with it and thinking it through properly, I’ve come to a different conclusion. I think staying, calling it out, and fighting your corner has far more impact than walking away with a statement and zero influence.
This isn’t about excusing what’s happening. It’s not about pretending harm doesn’t exist. It’s about understanding where pressure, accountability and change actually come from.
I’ve been on X since 2014. I was 34 then and, like a lot of people, I used it for the lighter stuff. Celebrities. Friends. Chat. It was fun and fairly shallow, if I’m honest.
Fast forward to now. I’m 46, and I look at the platform very differently.
These days, X is about managing accounts for other people, networking, sharing my blog, connecting with dog friends, and keeping my finger firmly on the political pulse. It’s where politics collides with real people in real time. It’s messy, loud, uncomfortable and occasionally exhausting, but it’s also the only platform where you’re consistently challenged rather than wrapped in cotton wool.
I’ve made genuinely good friends on X. I’ve been supported through some of my hardest moments. I’ve laughed until the wee hours with back-and-forth tweets that felt more like a group chat than a public forum. I’ve run campaigns there. I’ve sat fighting fires for clients into the small hours because something kicked off and needed to be handled now, not tomorrow.
Have I dealt with trolls? Of course I have. Anyone who says they haven’t is lying. But the fact that I always want the last word probably tells you everything you need to know about me. I fight my corner. I always have. I could have left many times. I chose not to.
One example being talked about a lot is the Belfast City Council, who’ve said it’s suspending posts on X because of the Grok controversy. On the surface, that sounds significant. A public body taking a stand.
But when you actually look at the account, the reality is less dramatic.
It has around 112,000 followers, yet most posts barely scrape a single like. Sometimes none. And that detail matters.
Before anything else, I don’t blame their comms team. Not for a second. X is hard to navigate at the best of times, and for public bodies, the risk appetite is understandably low. One wrong reply and it’s a headline. I get that.
But some organisations, in my opinion, play it far too safe.
Most corporate and council accounts churn out bland, generic posts that are identical across every platform. Copy. Paste. Schedule. Repeat. No adaptation. No personality. No conversation. It’s boring, and people respond accordingly by scrolling straight past.
If Belfast City Council posts the exact same update on Facebook, Instagram and X, is anyone really going to miss it on one of those platforms? Probably not. People can read it elsewhere, word for word.
Do they engage in conversation? No. Do they reply, debate, listen or challenge? Rarely, if ever. It’s what I call noticeboarding. You glance at it, register it exists, and move on. There’s no relationship there to lose.
So when corporates announce they’re leaving X, I always ask the same question: who is actually affected by this? In most cases, not many people at all. Their presence wasn’t shaping the space to begin with.
If you’re a corporate with a genuinely engaged following, staying and using your voice to call out problems publicly would actually mean something. Leaving simply removes one more moderate voice and leaves the room louder and uglier.
For politicians, I find the exits even harder to understand.
This is where your grassroots voters are. This is where people argue, vent, question and react in real time. Leadership isn’t about choosing the easiest environment. It’s about showing up in the hardest one. If you want legislation, cultural pressure and public accountability, this is where those conversations are happening.
Walking away because it’s difficult doesn’t feel like leadership. It feels like opting out.
One of the things I love most about X is the direct access. I can connect with politicians, challenge them, and understand them better. I can see how they behave under pressure, not just how they sound in a polished interview. That access doesn’t exist in the same way anywhere else, so if you are a Politician who posts the same posts everywhere, turns off comments, what was the point of you being on there in the first place? Again, will you be missed? Probably not, because the effort put in on other platforms is not the same on X, so why waste your time?
But it's not all doom and gloom; I also love sharing recipes with the girls. Posting dog photos that bring a bit of joy to someone’s timeline. Those moments matter. They’re part of what keeps the platform human.
People talk as if leaving X somehow starves it of oxygen. It doesn’t. It just hands the space over to the worst voices without a fight.
I know the argument. “Don’t give it legitimacy.” But X doesn’t need legitimacy from any one organisation. It already has reach, influence and cultural relevance whether we like it or not. The real question is whether people who care about decency stay and shape it, or retreat and let it rot.
Do I like Elon Musk? No. Not at all. But I’ve worked with people I didn’t like before. I’ve been part of workplaces and clubs where I disagreed with everyone’s views. Did I still turn up and do the job? Yes. Because sometimes you don’t get to choose the environment, only how you behave in it.
And mark my words, Musk will get bored. He’ll sell up. This strange parallel-universe moment we seem to be living in, like Back to the Future 2, where Biff gets the almanack and everything goes sideways, will pass. It’s scarily Trump-like, but it won’t last forever. Social media always swings.
We’ve seen it before. Even Facebook has brought back poking. We’ll all be throwing sheep again before we know it.
In the meantime, I’d rather be present. Loud when needed. Decent where it counts. Calling things out when they cross a line. Supporting people who need it. Challenging ideas I disagree with. Learning from perspectives that make me uncomfortable.
X, alongside Instagram, is still my favourite social platform because I need that political fix. It’s the only place where you’re properly challenged, where you hear opinions you disagree with, and where engagement still feels real rather than curated.
Your vibe attracts your tribe. That’s how I see it, so yes, I understand why people are leaving. It’s honourable. It’s understandable. But for me, staying and fighting for decency feels braver. Feels louder. Feels like it actually does something.
