Hanging by a Thread

Earlier this week, Meta made a small but notable change to Threads, its text-based social media rival to Elon Musk’s X. Users can now finally change their default feed to view only posts from accounts they follow, bypassing the algorithmic timeline that had long been forced upon them. Many cheered the update. But beneath the surface, the decision by Meta executives marked a major reversal for the platform that was once referred to as a “Twitter killer,” which has seen its bright future dim as engagement from power users dwindles.

Meta launched Threads in summer 2023 to much fanfare as users looked for safe harbor while Musk tore down the platform formerly known as Twitter. Within hours of its launch, Threads attracted more than 10 million users, including Hollywood stars, big brands, well-known journalists, and technology industry figures. It made headlines as the most rapidly downloaded app in history.

But the good vibes did not last.

Users quickly discovered they weren’t in control. The platform mandated the use of its infamous algorithmic feed and Meta said it would, by default, limit the reach of accounts posting “political content”—a bewildering decision in the run up to the 2024 election. Further, Adam Mosseri, the Instagram boss tapped to run Threads, said in a series of cryptic posts that the platform was not a place for users to post about the news.

Backlash ensued. What was political content exactly and why was it being suppressed? Meta would not offer detail beyond an insufficiently vague explanation describing it as “topics that affect a group of people and/or society at large.”

Beyond the algorithm frustration, Threads also launched without several basic features. There were no trending topics and search was limited to usernames, making it impossible to follow breaking news or discover posts by subject. Users couldn’t curate custom lists to organize their feeds, and there was no option to send direct messages. At first, users were forgiving. Threads was a brand new platform, after all. But Meta seemed surprisingly resistant to implementing these core features, choosing to bizarrely ignore the requests streaming in from their most hardcore users.

For the social media refugees who had fled Musk’s X as he transformed the site into a right-wing propaganda machine, their hopes of building a new community came crashing down.

Mark Zuckerberg made matters worse after the election of Donald Trump, choosing to embrace the extremist political figure who had used social media to whip up distrust ahead of the January 6 attack. That further frustrated much of the Threads base, which skewed progressive and had largely fled Musk’s X in search of a more principled platform, only to watch Zuckerberg dismantle fact-checking efforts, loosen content moderation rules, and kowtow to an anti-democratic figure. For users who once believed Threads could be a better kind of social network, their optimism dissipated.

In the weeks after the election, millions of users flocked to Bluesky, which quickly became the new home for many of the power users who had once dominated early Twitter. The platform stood in stark contrast to Threads, giving users significant control over their feeds and empowering them to build vibrant and niche communities. The platform felt electric with a type of energy that cannot be artificially manufactured. While still imperfect and relatively small, it offered something that Meta had not: a sense of authenticity and user-driven momentum.

That’s when Meta panicked. The platform suddenly started to give a damn about what its users had been pleading for all along. Threads rolled out trending topics. It rolled out advanced search. And this week, it rolled out the ability to finally ditch the algorithmic feed as the default option. But it has all felt like too little, too late. The early magic that Threads briefly held had slipped out of its hands.

Now Threads feels rather lifeless. While users still post there, for many has become something of a second-tier platform—a place that they dump content out of habit, not because they’re having real conversations or finding meaningful engagement. It’s like a social media purgatory; in a strange intermediary state after life, but also not quite dead. During its latest earnings report, Zuckerberg said Threads had amassed 320 million monthly active users, but to many observers it sure doesn’t feel like it. Influencers on the platform have noticed stagnant follower counts, minimal interactions, and a broader sense that no one is really there anymore.

A number of users have raised this issue. Kara Swisher, the renowned tech journalist, noted this week that her Bluesky following now dwarfs her Threads count, adding that her audience “has grown glacially” on the Meta platform. Social media consultant Matt Navarra added that he’s observed the same phenomenon: “The number of people I’ve seen post about zero growth on threads is insane for a newish platform as big as threads. Mine hasn’t grown at all in 9 months.”

Meta seems acutely aware of the issue too. In recent days, Meta sent users, including myself, an email encouraging people to post on the app more frequently. “It’s a great time to get back into Threads,” it said, highlighting some of its recent changes. But the anecdotes suggest that Meta’s antagonistic relationship with power users has backfired. While the company is adding new features long requested by users, it is clear that its indifference toward those powering the platform has sent many packing up.

The long overdue policy shifts serve as a cautionary tale about the risks of prioritizing corporate interests and political appeasement over user trust and engagement. Meta bet that threading the political needle and protecting its brand from controversy would help Threads grow safely, but instead it alienated the very users it needed most. Meta sent a clear message from the start: user input came second. The result wan’t just backlash, but abandonment once another viable X alternative came along. When social platforms lose the trust of their most active and engaged users, they rebel—and no amount of growth metrics can mask the hollowed-out reality left in the wake.