In his book The System of Mediocrity, Alain Deneault offers a reading and a vision that goes beyond understanding triviality and viewing it as a mere individual weakness or a decline in public taste. He sees it instead as a system that redistributes the standing of individuals within society and alters the standards by which success and influence are measured. The problem with this system is that those who advance are not the most knowledgeable, and those who are granted space are not the deepest thinkers. Rather, it is the trivial and the foolish who dominate the scene — those who excel at attracting attention and generating noise, even if what they offer is worthless.
In the age of platforms and social media, the situation has become more dangerous, because triviality is no longer a behaviour of limited impact. The trivial person now has the tools to command a mass following and a widely circulated discourse, and has become a model worth imitating.
The problem is not the existence of the trivial and the foolish, for they have existed in every society and every era. The problem lies in the tools that reinforce their presence, amplify their voices, and grant them an influence that far exceeds their true worth. In truth, platforms did not create triviality, but they did remove the barriers that once kept the trivial and the foolish in check. In the past, words carried a price for which one was held accountable; gatherings had gravitas and dignity; and speakers were bound by social and moral limits. Today, however, every person has a platform in their pocket and can reach thousands at the press of a button, regardless of who they are or what knowledge they possess.
We are not, of course, debating or disagreeing about the right to free expression within the bounds of law and respect for society. But that right does not mean freedom from responsibility. Not every opinion is knowledge, not every voice is an argument, not every reach is proof of value, and not everything put forward is true. Fabrications cannot be considered a point of view or an opinion, and abuse cannot be treated as intellectual practice.
Unfortunately, a culture has taken hold among some people that fame can substitute for specialisation, and that a follower count can stand in for the depth of an idea. Algorithms have reinforced this culture — indeed, this illusion — because they do not engage with content by the standard of truth, ethics, or scholarly value, but rather by its capacity to attract attention and provoke engagement. As a result, provocation has become a tool for reach, and abuse a road to fame.
On social media, a person may emerge who possesses neither knowledge nor achievement, building their presence on squabbles and manufactured feuds. All they need are credible figures to attack, issues to distort, and an audience that follows the confrontation without understanding the idea. When interest in them wanes, they raise the level of abuse, because their existence depends on provoking reactions from others and luring reasonable people onto their turf.
The truth and reality of the trivial person is this: they do not seek truth, because truth requires reason, argument, patience, integrity, reflection, and a willingness to admit error. Their goal is the momentary victory and the stirring of audiences. For this reason, the trivial tend to rely on questioning motives, mockery, personal attacks, and the fabrication of lies. When they are unable to confront an idea or a truth, they resort to personalisation; and when their contradictions are exposed, they present themselves as victims and defenders of what is right.
The greatest danger lies not in the abuse itself, but in its effect on society. When insults are repeated and society grows accustomed to them, they gradually lose their ugliness. When insolence is rewarded with reach, the distinction between boldness and triviality, between criticism and insult, becomes blurred. Triviality consequently becomes a social model, and public culture loses its ability to distinguish between value and noise. The trivial person succeeds in draining people of opinion, knowledge, expertise, and standing, pushing them to abandon their own concerns in order to respond to a rumour or correct a distortion, thus imposing on them both the subject of debate and its register. This is why responding to such a person is not the right choice: a response may confer on them a recognition and a standing they could never have attained otherwise.
In the digital economy, attention is currency, and views and reshares are gain. We must therefore be aware that the confrontation begins with a simple question: to whom do we grant our attention? A rational society is not one devoid of the trivial and the foolish, but one that knows their worth — granting them no more than they deserve, and allowing neither reach to become a substitute for value, nor noise to become a substitute for the voice of reason.