Social media is an empire of illusions, built on pixels and vanity.
Every like, every follower, every engagement chart glows like divine proof that we matter and that we are winning. But most of what we measure online is a fantasy.
Our phone, tablet, or computer dashboard have become digital idols, and funders pour millions into them without understanding what any of it means. We now spend more than $150 million a year on this illusion.
We bankroll people and organizations that chase visibility instead of impact. Add influencer contracts, empty awareness campaigns, and polished videos no one watches, and the total climbs into the hundreds of millions.
We are not investing in optics; we are investing in optical illusions. Illusions that tell us we are powerful, while our real influence – moral and cultural – is being flattened by opponents who understand power better than we do.
<br><strong>New York’s new mayor</strong>
Recently elected New York Mayor Zohran Mamdani mastered the digital stage. A radical candidate with awful ideas, yet his message spread like wildfire. He spoke with clarity, he named his enemies, and he told a story people wanted to repeat.
He understood that social media is not a debate stage but a battlefield of emotion. The Jewish world responded with anger, hashtags, and tired talking points. Private donors went to influencers who promised visibility and delivered useless noise.
Meanwhile, Mamdani’s election as mayor should terrify anyone who thinks impressions equal influence.
<br><strong>Visibility is not victory</strong>
The Jewish world is obsessed with being seen. Every crisis triggers a flood of graphics, hashtags, and badly edited videos.
We measure success by impressions and reach, as if visibility is the same as influence. Our opponents do not think like that. Antisemites measure results. They fight for policy changes, narrative shifts, and cultural normalization.
While we refresh dashboards, they rewrite reality. Visibility is not victory but the confusion of noise for power.
<br><strong>Broken metrics</strong>
The first step is admitting the truth. Our metrics do not measure influence. They were designed for advertisers, not advocates. Likes are not loyalty. Views are not validation.
A viral post may make us feel righteous, but it rarely changes anything in the real world. If Jewish influence online is going to mean something again, we need to measure different things entirely.
Not a popularity contest
Influence used to be a popularity contest. That era is over. Today, influence is a test of credibility. That is why I train Jewish content creators to build relationships, not crowds.
At the Tel Aviv Institute, one of our most important shifts has been moving from big data to small data. We measure the quality of interactions, the durability of trust, and the empathy a story creates.
It is not glamorous work. It does not produce flashy charts or garner dream grants from legacy foundations. But it is real.
Genuine connection scales better than clickbait. One conversation rooted in trust can move more minds than a million empty impressions. Funders must demand this shift. They must stop paying for viral spikes and start asking for depth. Who returns for dialogue. Who acts. Who changes.
Those who only seek applause should step aside and allow resources to go to those who are building continuity. The comment that becomes a conversation. The follower who becomes a volunteer. The post that becomes a project.
<br><strong>The metrics game</strong>
I played the metrics game. I celebrated viral moments and watched my numbers climb. At the same time, discourse around Israel and antisemitism collapsed.
That is why I changed how I measure success. I care about depth. Not how many saw it, but who grew from it. Including me.
This is not only a technological failure. It is a moral one. Jewish advocacy has built a system that rewards performance over persuasion and branding over bravery. The best-funded projects are often the shallowest. Meanwhile, young Jews who actually live online see through it all. They do not want messaging. They want meaning. They do not want PR. They want honesty.
Look at the Zenith poll. Sixty-seven percent of Jews aged 18 to 44 said they would vote for Mamdani. They saw something real in him. They do not see it in us. If we cannot offer meaning, we will not only lose influence; we will lose the next generation.
At the Tel Aviv Institute, we are building something different. A digital strategy structured on honesty, empathy, and measurable transformation.
We are moving from likes to lifelines. From counting views to cultivating human hearts. It is slow work. It is sacred work. It proves that digital space does not need to be a vanity fair. It can be a place of real connection.
When Jewish advocacy stops performing and starts connecting, when we stop asking how many saw it and start asking who changed because of it, we will remember what influence really is. Not the illusion of light but the courage to kindle it. ■
Hen Mazzig is an Israeli-raised author and social critic redefining Jewish advocacy through his social media laboratory TLVi.org.