If you re-posted the picture of those two kangaroos hugging, or a sad koala perched in front of a charred forest or that red-spotted satellite image of Australia recently, you were probably just virtue signaling.
Don’t get me wrong, the Australian wildfires are a tragedy that deserve attention on social media. So, you’re not wrong for expressing your moral outrage or solidarity on Twitter, but you’re also not ... not virtue signaling — also known as social commentary for the purpose of indicating your morality.
I’m not saying that virtue signaling is inherently bad — there’s no such thing as bad publicity, right? But I did have a moment last week when I saw that same sad picture of the ash-dusted joeys, hit the paper plane icon and started swiping to see which filter made them look the most sad.
Now, the moment you’re having while reading this is likely the same moment that I had — I thought to myself, 'This is ridiculous,' and decided not to post the picture to my story. Immediately afterwards, I had an even weirder moment where I felt bad for not having shared anything on my story about the blaze.
Did my lack of virtue signaling actually make me less virtuous? Was I part of the reason why there are so many misplaced marsupials?
In short, no.
I surely didn’t lose any sleep over this dilemma. But it did spark new questions about the place of virtue signaling in what we do here at The Daily Tar Heel, and my role in perhaps permitting too much of it in what we publish.
I mean, as the opinion desk, our job is pretty much to virtue signal for about 500 words with the hope that we’ve convinced readers to take a stance on a social issue. In the best case scenario, our posturing inspires readers to agree, and maybe retweet an article.
On a more personal level, however, this honestly caused me a lot of frustration as the editor of this desk because I had to wonder: Is this the fullest extent of our work?