Populism, Social Media, and the Illusion of Consensus

In recent years, the term populism has crept more and more into everyday political discussion — often used without a full appreciation of what it really means or how deeply it affects our society today.

At its heart, populism is a strategy. It’s a political tool used by parties or individuals to seize on topics that are emotionally or socially charged — often rooted in fear or frustration — and then amplify them. These topics may be very real concerns for parts of the population, but when they are relentlessly emphasised, they become the drumbeat of a movement. The goal? To energise a base, consolidate support, and drive a rise to power.

A recent UK example of this is the rise of Reform UK, which has used immigration as a rallying point in much the same way populist parties have done across Europe and beyond. This strategy is not new. Media — in its traditional print form — has long played a role in shaping public opinion and supporting populist movements. But something has changed.

Today, we no longer live in a world where newspapers are the dominant voice in opinion-making. We now inhabit a digital society, where the platforms shaping opinion — and ultimately votes — are social media companies, governed not by journalistic standards but by profit margins and algorithms.

Where once you may have chosen a left-leaning or right-leaning newspaper and still encountered opposing views in public life, online spaces are less balanced. Social media platforms filter and funnel content in ways that reinforce our existing beliefs. The result is an echo chamber, where people are continually exposed to views that mirror their own, giving them the false impression that theirs is the mainstream consensus.

I’ve experienced this personally. During the Brexit referendum, I was utterly convinced that Remain would win — not because I had weighed the national mood with any scientific method, but because my social media feeds were filled with Remain voices. Friends, articles, memes, videos — all pointing to a Remain victory. But, as we all now know, that didn’t happen. What I hadn’t accounted for was that Leave supporters were experiencing the exact opposite echo chamber.

Both sides were seeing entirely different “realities.” And so, when the results came in, it wasn’t just a political shock — it was a social media reality check.

This is where we must re-centre the conversation.

Rather than living purely in the curated world of algorithm-driven feeds, we need to actively engage with each other. In the lead-up to Brexit, I now realise I should have had more in-person conversations — especially with friends or family who I suspected might be voting Leave. Not to persuade or argue, but to understand. To connect. To bridge the gap.

Social media is not a neutral space. It is a commercial tool, engineered to generate revenue, and will increasingly be used by political and commercial actors to push targeted messages. It should not be our only source of information or interaction.

So, in an age of digital populism, we face a clear challenge: to resist the pull of the echo chamber. To step outside the feed. To ask questions. To talk. To challenge — respectfully — both online and offline. Because if we are to restore any kind of balance in society, it won’t happen through comment threads alone. It starts with real conversations, in real spaces, with real people.